


Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

by jatty



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jatty/pseuds/jatty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank doesn’t love Gerard—he’s never even seen him before the party. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want him, doesn’t <i>need</i> him. Gerard is beautiful, vulnerable, and just Frank’s type. It’s Gerard’s own fault for being so weak—wearing eyeliner and tight pants—and so naïve. He was just begging to be taken against his will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

**Author's Note:**

> This work is the most disturbing thing I have ever written. Proceed with caution and prepare for: Disturbed!Frank, Torture, Stockholm Syndrome, and Thoughts of Necrophilia and Homicide. (Possibly triggering.)

“Sorry about my brother,” Mikey said as soon as he let Frank in the front door. Frank hadn’t even seen this mysterious older brother yet and Mikey was already apologizing for him. “Find the place okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, looking around at the cars parked on the front lawn of the townhouse. “Who’s place did you say this was?”

“Ray’s cousin—he told you that yesterday.” Frank stepped into the crowded entrance room and looked at all of the people he most certainly had a chance with. Drunk bitches were grinding on each other, hands holding red Solo cups up in the air. Cute and ugly dudes talking, drinking, and grinding on girls.

“Right,” Frank said.

“So, beer’s in the kitchen, liquor’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’s liquor in the bathroom?” Frank asked, scrunching his nose in confusion. Mikey shrugged and walked away through the crowd. Frank followed him to the beer in the kitchen, fearful of what could be in the bottles in the bathroom. “So, where’s your brother?” 

“Getting wasted in the bathroom,” Mikey called, handing Frank a cup of beer. “He drove here and won’t let anyone take his keys. He’s gonna kill someone tonight, so make sure you stay out from in front of his car.” The kitchen was covered in red and blue cups, some were full, some empty, some spilled. There were stacks of pizza boxes on the floor—empty and full—an empty tub that had once held fried chicken. It was obvious to Frank that he’d come to the party too late.

“Sounds like a fun a guy,” Frank said, raising his eyebrows and drinking the lukewarm beer from his cup. 

“Hey! Frank, you made it!” It was Ray, sauntering into the room with his arm around his girlfriend. 

“Yeah,” Frank said, tipping his hand to the sober-looking woman under Ray’s arm. 

“He met your brother yet?” Ray asked, stooping down to nuzzle his girlfriend. Frank felt a cruel spark of jealousy bolt through him and he took a swig of beer, glaring into the cup bitterly.

“Not yet,” Mikey said. “He still boozing in the bathroom?”

“He’s not boozing,” Ray said. “I think he’s kind of upset.”

“Or drunk,” Mikey said, drinking four swallows from his cup. “Or high,” he added, drinking again. “Or being a crybaby.” He added something else in a mumble as he finished off his cup remarkably fast.

“You really don’t like your brother,” Frank said, looking around the kitchen and watching a blonde guy come in to get another cup.

“I love the fucker,” Mikey said, throwing his cup on the floor despite Ray’s unhappy sigh. “But he’s a big fuckin’ baby who needs to grow up. I offer to take him out and what does he do? Locks himself in the bathroom and hides.”

“Shy?” Frank asked, trying to pretend that he was disinterested. 

“You have _no_ idea,” Mikey mumbled. Frank chatted up Ray and Mikey for a little while before finishing another beer and going on the prowl. Mikey found a girl to make out with against a wall, Ray repeatedly kissed his girlfriend on the cheek and on the mouth.

Frank slid around the walls, looking for anyone about to pass out or otherwise vulnerable. He wasn’t a pervert, he wasn’t insane, and he wasn’t deranged…he just liked his victims weak. He hated relationships and all of their strings and ties and nooses. He hated having to listen and ‘be there’ when no one ever listened to him and no one was ever there for him when he needed it. 

It wasn’t a crime to have a one night stand, and if the person wasn’t conscious, it didn’t matter. It just saved them the memories and mixed emotions.

Then, Frank saw his target. He wore tight black pants—exposing his sexuality, or at least masquerading some sort of confidence. The hoodie he was wearing was oversized, and he was burrowing into it like he felt threatened. The hoodie in contrast to his jeans were such a contradiction. Confidence and insecurity—he was weak, he was wiping his nose on the back of his shaking hand. He was scared. He was _perfect._

Frank slid over to him slowly and gave him a smile. 

“Hey,” Frank said. The man jumped and stared at Frank in shock, his hazel, bloodshot eyes going wide, his wet, glistening lips parted in a gasp. He wasn’t used to being talked to—being hit on would just flatter him to death.

“Um…hi?” The man said, sniffing and wiping his nose again—this time on his sleeve.

“You liking the party?” Frank asked. The man stammered for a few moments and then ran his hand through his greasy, long black hair.

“Um, yeah…yeah, it’s okay.” Frank could barely hide his devilish smirk as he watched man begin to shake with nerves. 

“Are you Mikey’s brother?” Frank asked, taking in the awkwardness of the man and thinking back to all of the little quips his best friend had told him.

“Y-yeah,” the man mumbled. “I’m Gerard—how did you know that?”

“I’m Frank—Mikey’s my best friend,” Frank said, offering a huge, fake, friendly smile. “He talks about you all the time.” The man lowered his lined eyes to the ground and sniffed.

“Not good things,” Gerard whispered. “I know what he says.” The man walked away, and Frank let him. It was all part of the plan.

Frank wandered away and found Mikey again after a little while. 

“Sup?” Mikey said, holding the hand of a different girl than the one he’d had before. 

“What car’s your brother driving?” Frank asked.

“Why?” Mikey asked, his face void of emotions.

“I want to go outside for a smoke and I need to know which cars to avoid.” Mikey laughed, but answered.

“It’s a Subaru. Grey. He won’t leave until I do though.”

“I’m heading out for the night, probably,” Frank said. “I’m tired.”

“Oh,” Mikey mumbled, squeezing the girl’s hand. “See you later then. Sorry there weren’t any good girls for you.” Frank never told Mikey that he was gay. It was safer that way. He’d let Mikey catch him with countless girls, just so he’d never begin to suspect that the men found beaten after parties they’d attended together had anything to do with him.

So Frank left the party and hovered around the parked cars. He found the silver Subaru under a tree down the street. It was as secluded as its owner was. Frank found the car unlocked and rolled his eyes at the man’s stupidity as he crawled into the backseat and laid himself out on the floor. It was easier to hide in those dark shadows, and he couldn’t let Gerard see him until it was too late.

He waited for thirty minutes before he heard someone walking up to the car. His heart was hammering in his chest, but the rush was so fulfilling. He loved it—the tension as Gerard got into his car and shut the door. The tingling that covered his skin when Gerard spoke—“Fucking Mikey…always makes me go places I don’t want to. And why? So he and _stupid friends_ can make fun of me.” It lit the flame in Frank’s soul as he heard Gerard complain on and on as he started the car and began to drive.

Frank waited for a few twists and turns before slowly rolling and twisting his way onto the back seat from where he’d hidden on the floor. The nerves were so exciting—would he get caught? Would Gerard scream and swerve and nearly miss a tree? Would he hit a pole in his terror?

Quickly, and silently, Frank made it onto the backseat where he lay for only a few short minutes before it was time. He had to fight to keep the deranged giggle from bubbling out of his throat as he prepared to speak.

When Gerard hit the brakes a little too firmly at a stop light, Frank began his ploy.

“What the fuck?” He moaned in a falsely sleepy tone. It was louder than any sleepy person could have ever mustered, but it had to be. Gerard couldn’t _not_ hear him. 

Gerard gasped shrilly and stiffened in his seat. Oh how Frank loved the fear that began to taint the air. Poor Gerard—too afraid to even turn around and see who was in the backseat of his car. He looked more like he was ready to open the door and run off down the street.

Frank slowly sat up, holding his head and pretending to be drunk.

“Where…what?” Frank groaned. “It’s not my car!” Frank drunkenly wailed. Gerard’s shoulders relaxed and he looked over his shoulder with a put-on glare that quickly disappeared.

“Frank?” He said, face twisting in confusion. The light turned green, but Gerard didn’t pull forward, even though the car behind him honked. “What the fuck are you doing in my car?”

“This is your car?” Frank asked, tilting his head over too far to one side and forcing his left eye to twitch. 

“Yeah, this is _my_ car,” Gerard snapped, he turned and saw the light was green and started driving again. “What the fuck are you doing in my car?” Gerard asked with anger overcoming his terror.

He’d be scared again soon, but not until Frank had earned his trust.

“I went to go to sleep,” Frank said. “I thought this was my car…Can you drive me home?” Gerard made a choked sound and then sighed in frustration.

“Fine…I can’t leave to you walk in the dark intoxicated.”

“You’re the one who’s drunk,” Frank slurred. “They all talk about it.”

“I’m not drunk!” Gerard growled. Frank leaned forward in the backseat to lean up beside the driver’s seat.

“I think…you’re kinda cool,” Frank breathed. “I live that way…” He pointed his hand in front of Gerard’s face so he had to move his head aside to avoid being poked. “Thank you for taking me home,” Frank said with a forced drunken giggle. “You’re nice—you looked nice tonight. Why don’t they like you?” He saw the pain flicker on Gerard’s face and immediately wanted to see more. But he couldn’t yet. He had to be patient. Just a few blocks more to get him home. 

“Where do you live?” Gerard asked, changing the subject.

“I live by the party—like…just down the street from it.”

“All the way back _there!?_ ” Gerard cried out. “Why did you think this was your car? Why would you drive?”

“I didn’t drive,” Frank said. “I thought made it home...” Gerard sighed in annoyance and followed Frank’s crummy directions back to his own little one-story house set back from the road, but not so far as to draw suspicion. “You’re so nice,” Frank slurred when Gerard pulled up at his house. “I love you…” He fell back down against the backseat and rubbed his face against the upholstery when Gerard looked back at him. “I can’t get up…”

Moaning in annoyance and throwing back his head, Gerard shut off the car and opened his door.

“Are you going to help me inside?” Frank asked, his tone drunken and stupid. Gerard fell for it like the stupid, naïve little slut that he was—or was going to be soon enough.

Gerard got out of the car and opened the back door for Frank. Frank woozily sat up and slid towards him. He got one out of the car, thought of something to make his stomach churn, got his other foot on the ground, and then stood up—falling against Gerard immediately. The other man stiffened.

“I don’t feel good,” Frank moaned, pushing Gerard away and stumbling a step to the side. He twisted so his back was to the other man and quickly—stealthily—rammed two fingers down his own throat in order to vomit.

Gerard groaned in disgust as he shut his car door and then came to Frank’s side.

“Do you like…need to go to the hospital or something?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on Frank’s shoulder as Frank reeled from the gags wracking his body.

“No,” he moaned, in actual dread. Sometimes he hated how into it he got when he acted…wouldn’t dry heaves just be enough? He hated the burn in his throat. “I just wanna lay down,” he said, forcing himself to sound like he were crying.

“Come on,” Gerard said, “I’ll take you inside, okay? I don’t want you to fall.” So Frank fumbled with getting his keys out of his pocket, and Gerard had to put them in the lock for him and open the door to his house.

Every time Gerard would take his hands off of him, Frank would pretend to fall and force the other man to catch him—just to be sure that Gerard would come inside and take him to his bedroom.

“Here we go,” Gerard said in a soothing, motherly voice as he shut the door behind him like a good boy and guided a stumbling Frank towards the bedroom. 

“I never want to drink again!” Frank cried in false hysteria as Gerard took him into his spotless bedroom. He could see how it was set up—didn’t know what was hiding beneath everything on the bed.

“You’ll be okay,” Gerard said, like he was used to dealing with drunks even though Mikey said Gerard was the foolish, stupid drunk. “Just lay on your side, okay? Incase you get sick in your sleep or something.”

“Okay,” Frank mumbled, standing just at the edge of his bed. He couldn’t hold back the smirk, but his back was to Gerard so the other man couldn’t see. His blood was singing with pure adrenaline and pure bliss—he loved this part. “Gerard?” He said, sleepily and softly.

“Hm?” Gerard answered, rubbing Frank’s shoulder one last time before Frank whipped around and decked him straight in the face. Gerard recoiled, crying out and covering his face quickly. Frank moved fast, trained for this, and punched him in the stomach he doubled over.

From that position, and with Gerard still too stunned from the blow to the face to react, Frank fisted his hand in the man’s hair and pulled his forward, shoving him until he bent over the bed.

It wasn’t the position he wanted Gerard in—but that was okay. He still wanted to play before letting his victim realize that there was no way out…

Gerard finally came to his sense and tried to escape from Frank in the only direction possible. He crawled onto the bed, literally thinking he’d be fast enough to crawl all of the way to the other side and escape. 

Frank knew this move. He anticipated it, and as soon as Gerard was on the bed, Frank pounced on him, sat on his stomach, and pounded him in the face with _almost_ all of the strength he had. Gerard was yelling like a feral beast and trying to block the blows. It was okay—Frank didn’t care if he was punch face, hand, or arm. He just wanted to hit something and cause pain, and _know_ that he was responsible for every sad, hurt, and choked sound Gerard made.

“Stop!” Gerard screamed, covering his face and sobbing, trying to roll into the pillows to hide his face from the blows. “Please!” He’d quit trying to hit back and laid shaking and sobbing from the pain. Frank was pleased, and he let his blow become less damaging.

Though the assault had ended, Frank still didn’t pause long enough for Gerard to realize that. He grabbed Gerard’s right wrist and pinned it above his head. There was blood on his hand and that made it easier for Gerard to slide it out of his grasp.

But Frank wasn’t letting him free—no, no, no… He grabbed his wrist again with bone-crunching tightness and pinned it against the pillow. Gerard whimpered in despair, his eyes clenched tightly and his bloody lips pulled back into a grimace of pain. Frank hadn’t hit him in the mouth, but the blood from his nose was coating his face lovingly. 

“Stop,” Gerard begged. “My wallet’s in the car—you can have what you want,” he sobbed. He was crying and it was beautiful to Frank. “Please—don’t hurt me.” He was so pathetic. A few blows to the face and he’d lost his fight…

It would come back though, Frank knew it. It always came back when they realized he wasn’t after their money.

“I don’t want your cash,” Frank breathed against Gerard’s ear. “You’re not a prostitute…you’re mine.” Gerard’s eyes snapped open and let out a strange cry. His whole body jerked and he started fighting again. He fisted a hand in Frank’s hair and pulled hard. Frank screamed and tightened his grip on Gerard’s wrist and made sure his body stayed over top of Gerard’s. He wouldn’t let his hips slide from his stomach—if Gerard got on top of him, Gerard could escape. Gerard could be in power and he wasn’t allowed. Frank didn’t want Gerard in charge—Gerard was to be his new toy. Frank was going to play with _him,_ not the other way around.

Gerard started yelling and thrashing, but his hysteria did him in as Frank’s calm and collected nature kept him in command. He knew what to expect, he had the upper hand.

Poor Gerard didn’t stand a chance when Frank got the rope out from under his pillow. In four quick motions, undaunted by the free hand scratching his face, Frank had the first of Gerard’s arms tied to the headboard. 

Gerard’s fight intensified as he realized he was almost trapped. In one moment of terror, he grabbed his bound wrist with his free hand when he should have swung at Frank’s face and landed him square in the nose. If he’d punched, he might’ve gotten free, but he panicked instead.

As soon as he grabbed at his bindings, Frank pulled the second cord out from beneath the splayed sheets and—wow—so quickly he was done, both of the man’s wrist tied nicely with a tight knot.

Just for his troubles, Frank punched Gerard two last times in the face until he stopped squirming and listened to the man sob beneath him. 

“No,” he moaned. “No!” He was twisting his wrists uselessly while Frank got off to his pain. Gerard’s clean tears marring the blood smeared on his bruising cheeks. He was beautiful—Frank loved it. 

He always loved his victims once he had them.

“What are you going to do?” Gerard whimpered when Frank stopped hurting him. “What do you want!?” He shrieked. No one would hear him scream.

“What do you think?” Frank asked in a whisper, leaning down and licking Gerard’s cheek. The man thrashed beneath him, but it no longer mattered if he forced Frank off of him—his wrists were still bound and there was No.Way.Out…

“You’re Mikey’s best friend,” Gerard sobbed. “He talks about you all of the time—he said you’re nice.” Aw, the victim was trying to get into Frank’s heart. He wanted sympathy because he still thought that maybe Frank would let him go…

“I am nice,” Frank said. “If you’re nice to me.” Gerard’s breaths became frantic when Frank slid back to sit on his knees instead of his stomach. 

Gerard’s whimpered words turned to screams as Frank toyed with the buckle of his belt.

“No!” Gerard screamed. “Stop it! Stop!” Frank rolled his eyes, tired of hearing the screaming, but not yet ready to silence it.

The shouts went from an alarum to mortal terror—deep to shrill as Frank undid the belt, undid the button…undid the zipper, and slowly started to tug. Taunting his victim who tried to kick him off. 

“Have you ever had sex with a man before?” Frank asked, smirking at Gerard when the man chanced a terrified glance at him. 

“No,” Gerard wailed. It wasn’t so much an answer to the question as it was a protest against what he now knew for certain was going to happen.

“No?” Frank taunted, pulling the man’s tight jeans down to his thighs.

“No!” Gerard screamed, thrashing uselessly and pulling at his bindings. His true physical objections were just about to start. His true terror wouldn’t set in until he was stripped and Frank could see everything. That was when it would all come crashing down—Gerard would feel that his world was over, but he’d fight. He’d fight and scream and cry until at last—Frank would be inside of him and then he’d lose the will. 

Then he’d lay still and sob as he was forced to take it against his will.

Frank didn’t see why being fucked in the ass was any different than getting punched in the face—they both hurt like hell and left a damaging mark. Why was the sex so…heartbreaking?

Frank would never let himself know…

Gerard made a sound like a child being stabbed when Frank took hold of his boxers—too impatient to play up the torture any more than stare the man in the eyes—and dragged them down his ass to the middle of his thighs.

“Oh…” Frank said with fake disappointment as he stared at Gerard’s cock just to make him uncomfortable. “I thought it’d be bigger—I wanted more of a prize for all of the fight you put up. But this thing—” Frank chuckled and grabbed Gerard’s member tightly in his fist and squeezed hard, making Gerard scream, “—is just as pathetic as you.”

“Get off of me,” Gerard pleaded, trying to throw Frank off of his legs, but failing because now his too-tight fucking pants were holding him captive as well as the bindings on his wrists. 

“Why?” Frank asked, dropping Gerard’s dick from his hand and forcing his hand between Gerard’s tightly clenched legs to grab his balls. “I’m having fun.” He emphasized his words by twisting his wrist and squeezing his hand, evoking a loud scream from the trapped man.

“Ow!” Gerard cried. “Ow—please stop!” Frank let go of him and sighed. He wanted more of a fight…Gerard was giving in too easily. Frank could almost say he was boring—he liked the occasional unexpected blow to the face. The pain was so…so erotic.

Letting Gerard off easy, just this once, Frank sighed and slid back until he was sitting on the mattress instead of Gerard’s body. The man, instead of kicking in Frank’s direction, pulled his knees up to hide himself and whined.

“Why aren’t you fighting?” Frank asked, grabbing one of Gerard’s ankles and forcedly pulling off one of the man’s shoes.

“I don’t want hurt anymore,” Gerard sobbed. Frank groaned in frustration. He overestimated this target—he’d already broken him without even trying.

“I’m still gonna hurt you,” Frank said conversationally, grabbing Gerard’s other foot and ridding it of its shoe as well. Gerard whimpered and Frank watched his body shiver with fear. He could still get off to that, even though he liked pain more.

“You’re Mikey’s _friend,_ ” Gerard tried. “Please let me go.”

“Why? So you can run off to Mikey and tell him what I did? He won’t believe you.” Frank grabbed the waistbands of Gerard’s pants and boxers and pulled, pulled them down and forced them off of Gerard’s legs. After almost getting kicked while stealing Gerard’s socks as well, Frank forced his way between Gerard’s legs and laid down on his chest, feeling Gerard’s body shuddering beneath him.

He was so perfect.

“Please—please, don’t,” Gerard sobbed.

“Why?” Frank asked, reaching over to his nightstand and grabbing a pair of scissors. He slowly sat up, sitting directly on top of Gerard’s dick just to cause him pain, and flashed the blades before his eyes.

Gerard pleaded more as Frank slowly cut off his sweater and the shirt underneath. He cut them up the middle and then down the sleeves, showing arms wrecked by scars that Frank was already aware of.

“What’s this?” Frank said, faking gasp and running the blades of the scissors over to the fresh, scabbing wounds on the inside of his arms. “Is Gerard trying to kill himself?”

“Stop,” Gerard sobbed, burying his face against the pillow. 

“That’s what I hear from Mikey,” Frank cooed. “‘Oh, Gerard’s suicidal,’ ‘oh, Gerard’s in the hospital again, he stopped eating,’ ‘oh, dear, Gerard tried to hang himself.’ If you wanted to die before, you’re really gonna hate your life now,” Frank seethed. “I’m gonna show you what it’s like to fight to stay alive—you won’t dare hurt yourself again.” Frank grabbed Gerard’s chin and forced him to look him in the eye. “I’m gonna kill you,” he said, hardly audible. 

And Gerard did tremble—because he didn’t want to die. Frank was God now. He controlled how Gerard felt, and Gerard wasn’t allowed to be suicidal here.

Gerard looked up at his wrists and tried twisting them again, as if he’d somehow get free. While he busied himself with that, Frank returned the scissors to the nightstand and grabbed a condom from inside the drawer. When Gerard saw it he started thrashing again—one blow to the face left him still.

No fight left as Frank—bored and tired—undid his jean and rolled the condom onto himself, not wasting time with a show. His body was his own, and it wasn’t there for Gerard’s viewing pleasure.

The only opposition Frank got as he threw Gerard’s legs over his shoulders and lined himself up without any prep or stretching was the honor of having Gerard collapse into tears. Every breath was a sob.

“Look at me,” Frank commanded. Gerard shook his head against the pillow and wailed. “Look at me!” Frank screamed. He didn’t have to hit—Gerard was already his slave. In fear of pain, his eyes slid open and he stared at Frank worriedly. “I want to see your eyes—I want to see the look in your pretty eyes the first time a man fucks your pathetic ass.” Gerard tried to look away, but corrected the behavior with a slap across his face. Gerard was weak, and Frank got to watch him shatter as he slowly, slowly… _slowly_ pushed inside his tight little body.

“Hurts!” Gerard screamed. “Hurts! Stop!—ow! Ow!” He started thrashing and took Frank by surprise—Gerard was the first to fight when he’d already pushed inside. It felt like his dick was being split in half due to the lack of lubricant and Gerard’s stupid rigidness, and his squirming just made it worse—but for Frank, worse was sometimes so, so, _so_ much better.

Frank pressed in all of the way and leaned down to force a kiss onto Gerard’s lips. And the fucker _bit_ him. Quickly, to show that he was in charge, Frank pulled out to the tip and slammed back in, hurting himself more than he could have possibly hurt Gerard, but not letting it show.

Gerard screamed like a man being killed and pressed back against the bed as if trying to slip through it somehow.

Frank set up a brutal pace, watching Gerard’s eyes roll back in his head as his bloody, smeared lip parted with his heavy pants and cries. He looked disgusting—blood, snot, tears, and drool dripping down his pain-contorted face.

“Why are you doing this?” Gerard sobbed between squeaks of utter pain.

“Because I love you,” Frank breathed. Gerard moaned and shook his head. Frank watched him come undone and lose his mind as he was fucked into the mattress. His wrists were bleeding from his constant attempts to rip them free of the bindings, but Frank couldn’t feel pity.

Stupid Gerard, letting a stranger hitch a ride home. Idiot, going inside with him. Fucking _moron,_ thinking it was safe to take him into his room to lie down. He’d been asking for this—Frank was just giving him what he deserved.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank woke up sticky, lying on top of Gerard’s slowly rising and falling chest. His breaths were even, telling Frank that he was still unconscious. Gerard had passed out shortly after Frank had finished with him. Frank was sad that he didn’t get the chance to be lulled to sleep by his captive’s sobs.

There would be other chances for that, though. Probably even tonight.

Frank moaned at the thought and slid gently out of bed. He was going to take a shower, and _then_ he was going to wake his little captive. Or, his captive would wake, scream and scream and Frank would shower, listening to him cry in the other room…

Both possibilities sounded wonderful, but Frank really wanted to wake him himself if he could help it.

Quietly, Frank washed off the night’s antics from his flesh and dried off. He got himself dressed in a nice enough outfit and stepped back into his bedroom. Gerard was still laying, almost looking dead in his sleep.

Frank looked at the blood on the sheets between Gerard’s legs and sighed. He was going to need another new mattress…and he didn’t want to get rid of this one just yet, liked it.

Slowly, Frank went over to the bed and untied one of Gerard’s wrists. The binding was too tight and he just _knew_ that circulation was slowly being cut off throughout the night. He needed his little slave’s hands—he was going to make him do things to himself with them later because there was nothing better than making the slave its own worst enemy.

Gerard stayed unconscious as Frank tied his wrists to different (and much lower) parts of the headboard with a different material that would cause less damage even though it held just as tight. Taking advantage of his state, Frank took the time to bind his ankles to the baseboard as well—just to keep from getting kicked if the man woke up with more fight in him than he’d had the night before.

“Wake up, Darling,” Frank said, about an hour after he’d finished retying him. Gerard wasn’t just sleeping—he was completely blacked out. “Wake up, Baby,” Frank cooed, petting Gerard’s hair and kissing his bloody cheek.

The first thing Gerard did when he woke up was cry out in pain—before he even opened his eyes. That made Frank smile. 

“Do you want something to drink, Baby?” Frank asked. Gerard opened his bloodshot, heartbroken, devastated, tortured eyes and began crying silently. “Hm? A drink?” Frank asked, leaning down again to give the man another kiss on the cheek.

Gerard began to sob and closed his eyes tightly. He didn’t pull at his bindings, but to Frank that was no surprise. His spirit was broken, but he wouldn’t get it back for another few hours. And Frank would break it just as soon as it returned. 

“I’m going to get a cloth and wipe your face,” Frank said softly, getting off of the bed and going back to his bathroom. A soft noise from Gerard followed after him and Frank smiled as he wetted the cloth, filled the glass he had on the bathroom counter with more warm water, and returned to the room with them. “Here, Baby—this’ll help you feel better.”

Gerard moaned and flinched away from Frank’s touches at first, but he quickly gave up and laid still against the blood-stained pillow so Frank could dab to dried and sticky fluid off of his face.

“Poor Baby,” Frank cooed, getting on of Gerard’s cheeks clean. “I didn’t mean to break your nose…” Gerard moaned deep in his throat from fear and began shaking. “I’ll be gentle,” Frank said as he slowly started to clean to blood on and around Gerard’s slightly crooked nose. “My poor Baby,” Frank muttered.

He could be gentle when he wanted to—and he only ever wanted to when he cleaning up the aftermath of wonderful tortures. Eventually, the men he victimized would let him do anything. But he only kept them around for a week or two at most. 

He never killed them, even though he told them he would. By the time he let them go, he was certain that they’d never tell a soul. But Gerard was different. Frank _wanted_ to kill him. He wanted to watch Gerard’s eyes turn from terrified to dead…he wanted to know what it looked like. What did Gerard’s soul look like?

“What’s going to happen?” Gerard asked, his cracked and raw voice no louder than a desperate whisper.

“I’m gonna keep you,” Frank said, still washing blood from Gerard’s chin and neck. And to think—he still had to wash up his ass and thighs later before trying anything new. “And I’m gonna play with you every day…and I’m gonna kill you.” Gerard moaned in terror and jerked his head away from Frank’s grip. It was all he could do with his arms and legs bound.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Gerard begged.

“Oh, I know,” Frank said, leaning down and kissing Gerard softly on the lips. He could feel Gerard gasp into his mouth and he loved it. “But I don’t want to think about anyone else touching you—you’re mine now. And I know if I let you go you’re gonna find someone to confide in, someone to _hold_ you and make it all better…someone to fuck and take my place in your memory. That’s not allowed.” Gerard whimpered in terror and let the tears bathe his cheeks.

“Please,” Gerard whispered. “Don’t hurt me.”

“The _point_ is to hurt you, stupid,” Frank hissed. “You shouldn’t have left your car unlocked—you should’ve thrown me out at the stop light. You shouldn’t have gotten out of your car—you shouldn’t have come in my house, let alone my bedroom, you idiot. You asked for this—you _deserve_ this.” Gerard whimpered and pulled at his bindings weakly. “No…tell me what you’re afraid of most. I need to know what to use against you.” Gerard stared at him with terrified, hazel eyes. He didn’t understand why Frank was being so blunt. To Frank, it never made sense to play games. People were smart. If he said he needed to know what terrified someone, that person was going to assume that that knowledge would be used against them. “See, I’m afraid of spiders,” Frank said. “What are you afraid of?”

“Dying,” Gerard breathed.

“And yet you slit your wrists?” Frank asked, tapping one of the fresher wounds on Gerard’s arm. The man winced. 

“Dying all alone…”

“You won’t be alone,” Frank whispered. “I’ll be with you—killing you slowly and dismembering you while you’re still alive.” Gerard screamed and shook his head violently. 

“I didn’t do anything to you!” Gerard pleaded. “Please!—Let me go!”

“No,” Frank said firmly, grabbing Gerard’s face and turning his head to face him. Gerard stared at him in pure, wide-eyed terror. His lips were parted and moist with spit from his screaming, his cheeks raw from the tears and Frank’s scrubbing. So many bruises marked up his skin from his beating… “You in the mood, Baby?” Frank asked, swallowing hard as he stared at the man’s pretty eyes. “I wanna fuck…” Gerard whimpered, started whining, and then screamed as Frank started untying one of his ankles.

But Gerard didn’t dare kick him…and Frank _didn’t_ reward him. He untied both ankles, forced his legs up and apart, and got between them. He grabbed a condom from his nightstand, undid his jeans, and took what he wanted again…and again…a third time until Gerard lost control and ended up pissing on himself in fear. Frank didn’t punish him—the shame and humiliation on Gerard’s face pleased him, but he was certain that he’d never let this…accident…happen again. Next time, he’d make him piss in a bottle before taking him—the degradation might even be worse that way.

Frank cleaned up the mess when he’d finished and lay back down at Gerard’s side, not bothering to tie his ankles again. Gerard wasn’t fighting, he was playing dead.

He had work in the morning, and that made him sad. That was less time he could spend with his little captive and more time the poor man had to be tied up and alone. Tomorrow, people would really start to worry about Gerard. They’d wonder why he wasn’t at work, and why he wouldn’t answer his phone.

Frank moaned in grief because he had to ditch Gerard’s car someplace that wasn’t so suspicious…maybe by a ravine so they’d think Gerard jumped. Or maybe along the highway with the engine assaulted so they’d think he hitchhiked and disappeared.

He didn’t want to ditch the car—he wanted to lay in bed with his Baby and cuddle for a long, long time…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard lay in the bed sobbing and biting on the gag in his mouth. He didn’t try to pull at the cords holding his wrists to the headboard, nor did he pull at the bindings on his ankles. There was no way out—he was trapped.

He’d been trapped for days. Frank had left for work again, leaving Gerard alone in the strange house—his only company was the too-large dildo Frank had forced inside of him just before leaving. If it fell out, it would be replaced when Frank got home with an even larger one. Gerard worked very hard to keep still.

He wanted to go home. He wanted Mikey—and wanted to shake him until he told him why he had to make him go to that party just to ignore him the whole night. Why couldn’t he have let him be on his own? Why couldn’t he just be allowed to stay in his apartment and hide?

Part of him feared that Mikey wanted this to happen to him. Frank had shown him how little people loved him. No one cared about him. No one came here looking for him. No one called Frank asking if he’d seen him…

The front door to the house screeched open and Gerard started sobbing harder. Frank was home for his lunch break and Gerard was going to be hurt—he was always hurt. Every hour, it seemed, for two weeks he’d been hurt. 

“Frankie,” Gerard cried into his gag when the man burst into the room. Gerard gurgled in quiet fear as Frank stormed over to him, and then shrieked as Frank ripped the dildo from him in one harsh pull.

“I don’t even get a thank you?” Frank snarled.

“Thank you,” Gerard said quickly, the gag distorting his words.

“Good boy. I’m gonna take the gag out, and you’re gonna be quiet.” Gerard nodded quickly and held still as the soaking wet gag was taken from his mouth. The sides of his mouth were red and raw, chafed from the cloth which was tied too tight. “You thirsty, Baby?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded. “What?”

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard said. He was supposed to call him Frank, but if he said Frankie he was usually treated better.

“Good boy. I’ll get you some water.”

“Thank you, Frank,” Gerard called after him when he left the room. Frank came back with a bottle of water and a sandwich. The sandwich was Frank’s, but Gerard only wanted the water. He got dinner a night, and that was all he really craved.

“I’m gonna untie your wrists, and you’re gonna drink on your own today, alright?” Frank said, setting the bottle and the plate down on the bed beside him. Gerard nodded because he didn’t always have to speak and held still as Frank unbound his wrists one by one.

Gerard didn’t fight anymore. He felt sick when thought about how easy it was to just obey. He couldn’t escape and he knew it. He knew Frank would kill him soon, but he still didn’t try to get free. If he was good, Frank took care of him. He didn’t need to act up or get himself in trouble. He’d just lose all of the freedoms he’d just gotten if he did.

( ) ( ) ( )

By the second month, Frank was feeling pretty damned pleased with himself. The cops had questioned him about Gerard’s disappearance, and he’d gotten himself removed as a suspect. Of course, he didn’t tell Gerard that he’d been questioned. He told Gerard that no one wanted him, that he wasn’t even registered as missing.

Stupid Gerard believed him. Stupid Gerard was so…so _good._ Frank had already kept him too long, but he liked this constant, forced company. Gerard was his to fuck, his to fuck with, his to hurt—his punching bag, his pillow, his lover. 

Mikey was in ruins though. Frank had seen him break down twice since the party. He blamed himself for Gerard’s disappearance, and he damn well should.

Gerard talked to him, unlike other victims. Gerard opened up and told Frank about how mean everyone was to him. Forced him to go to parties so they could laugh at him, ever since he was a kid. He liked to stay home and hide, but Mikey always convinced him to come out.

Slowly, Frank began to believe that it _was_ Mikey’s fault. Gerard was socially damaged from being taunted his whole life—he didn’t know what to be wary of or cautious about.

Frank, for the first time, felt pity for his victim. Poor Gerard…Frank might have let him go if his screaming voice wasn’t so beautiful.

As pretty as it was now—cracking as Frank fucked him with a dildo too large to handle. Frank was mesmerized by watching the unbelievably thick, unbelievably long object disappear inside of his captive’s body. No matter how hard Gerard fought, it still went deeper and deeper, bathed slowly in blood.

Frank had been pushing it all of the way in and tugging it out for almost an hour—he didn’t realize how much time had gone by. It was just so fascinating. How could his body open up so wide and just _take it_ like Frank wanted it to?

Suddenly, too suddenly, Gerard quit writhing and Frank pulled the dildo free of him, scared. Had his baby passed out? Yes…for the seventh time, he’d fainted while being tortured. Frank never hurt Gerard for fainting like had his other captives. He felt bad for Gerard, so he let it go.

He had to stop playing with him though, and that was sad, but he could always start again tomorrow.

Frank tossed the dildo aside to be cleaned up later and gently wiped at the blood coming from Gerard’s opening with his finger. It was so bright—a bright red that demanded attention and warned of negative consequences. The body wasn’t meant to be treated this way, but it would learn to take it just like Gerard’s mind had.

Frank smeared the blood off of his finger onto the tip of Gerard’s dick—just for an excuse to touch him there, even though he didn’t need one. He got off of the bed and went the bathroom, seeking a cloth to use to wash Gerard’s face.

Frank really hated to see him laying there with tears and snot and drool all over him.

As he was wiping the other man’s face, Gerard came to, looking dazed with eye glazed over in pain.

“Hi, Baby,” Frank said softly. Gerard looked at him for a moment and then started to cry all over again.

“Hurst,” Gerard sobbed. “It hurts.”

“I know,” Frank said, as if he weren’t the one who’d caused the pain. “You’ll like it soon though. I know you will. It’ll fill you up inside and it’ll turn you on.” Gerard whimpered and shook his head.

“Hurts bad,” he whimpered.

“I want it to,” Frank said. “I like you hurt—you make such pretty noises.”

“I can make them other ways,” Gerard said, sniffing and trying not to burst into hysterics. “I can!”

“No,” Frank said, tutting and petting Gerard’s hair. “You only make those noises when I’m hurting you bad.”

“Hurt me somewhere else?” Gerard asked. Frank laughed, just because no other person—no other slave—talked this way. They always just cried and begged, and begged and cried. Gerard tried to negotiate. He knew pain could only be replaced with other pain. He didn’t try to get out of it entirely. 

“I like hurting you down there,” Frank said, smirking. “It’s so sensitive. No other part of you is so…bi-polar,” Frank said, laughing. “Stroke it and you moan, scratch it and you scream. I love it. I love hurting you.” Gerard whimpered softly as Frank reached down to demonstrate exactly what he’d said, taking Gerard’s dick in his hand and pumping it slowly until he was fully hard and then digging his fingernails into the flesh and scraping off skin cells until he drew blood from the tip.

He wished he could swallow Gerard’s noises and make them a part of him forever.

“Frankie,” Gerard whimpered. “Hurts…”

“Good,” Frank said. Gerard moaned and laid flat against the bed, looking far too disoriented. Frank finished wiping up his face and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before taking the cloth back to the bathroom to rinse it and soak it in water again.

When he returned, he settled on the wonderful task of wiping the blood up off of Gerard’s thighs, slowly working his way towards his torn rectum—loving the way Gerard hissed in pain as soon as Frank touched the rag to it.

Frank was sad because he knew he’d have to let Gerard’s body be for a while—it needed to heal before he caused…

Frank shook his head violently.

Permanent damage? He was worried about permanent damage?

What did that mean? That he wasn’t going to kill Gerard? But he _wanted_ to kill Gerard. He wanted Gerard dead…just not yet. And not anytime soon.

He wanted to keep fucking him…he wanted to fuck him now, even though he was sore and raw and bleeding already. He needed to…

Cruelly, Frank tossed the rag aside and grabbed a condom from the nightstand. Gerard squeaked in fear when he saw the movement and pulled at his bindings for the first time in days.

“No!” he called, not loud, but desperate. “No—No!” Frank pushed in quickly, daunted by Gerard’s shrill scream of pain. It didn’t feel as pleasing as he’d hoped, but it was still good. There was too much blood for friction and Frank slid in and out with ease. 

Gerard thrashed beneath him, his body shaking from the pain shooting through him. Frank moaned deeply, knowing that he’d caused that pain. He alone. Gerard fell apart beneath him and Frank sighed softly, watching himself as he buried himself to the hilt inside of Gerard’s wrecked and ravaged body.

“Frankie,” Gerard stammered. “Hurts so much…” Frank stared Gerard in the eyes and watched them go fuzzy and out of focus. Frank started fucking him faster and watched as Gerard passed out from the pain.

It was then that Frank decided he wanted to be fucking Gerard when he died…he wanted to be inside of him when his body gave out. Then he wanted to desecrate his corpse…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard woke up when he was dropped into a tub of scalding hot water and screamed. He felt the water sear his torn entrance and stung at his few patches of undamaged flesh as well. The water burned the sensitive skin of his groin, but when he tried to get his hips out of the water, Frank just forced them back down. It felt like Frank were trying to boil him alive.

“Hush—you need clean,” Frank said bitterly. “Your worthless little dick is going to be fine—relax.” Gerard moaned and wailed in misery as the hot water made his body parts twitch with agony. The pain just grew worse and worse as Frank scrubbed him raw with a bath brush, and then even more agonizing as Frank shoved his head under the water to rinse away the shampoo in his hair.

Gerard didn’t know why, but when Frank let him out of the water finally and wrapped him in the mercifully cool towel, Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank in a tight embrace. He buried his head under Frank’s chin and trembled, hoping that somehow showing affection to the man would get him some affection back.

It worked…

Frank started petting his wet hair gently and let him lay against his chest for almost five minutes before drying him off and making him stand up despite the pain it caused his wounded body. He was escorted back to the bedroom, but wasn’t bound as he was laid back on the bed.

“I trust that if I go get you something to eat, you’ll stay right here?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded quickly and buried his face in the bloody sheets on the bed. He knew better than to disobey…what he didn’t know how to do was react when someone rang the doorbell.


	2. Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

Gerard heard a plate crash in the kitchen when the doorbell to Frank’s home rang. He whimpered and buried himself in the blood and cum matted sheets as he heard Frank _run_ back to the bedroom from the kitchen.

Frank burst into the bedroom and Gerard squeaked quietly in fear. Would Frank kill him? Just to make sure he was quiet?

“Don’t you say a fucking word, got it!?” Frank snapped, pointing a vicious finger at Gerard.

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Not.A. _Word._ ” Frank slammed the bedroom door and hurried to his front door. Gerard inhaled shakily and listened in utter silence as Frank opened his front door.

“Hey—hey man, what’s up?” Frank said. “You okay?” Gerard’s heart was pounding as he listened to the guest mumble indistinctly. “Yeah—no, it’s fine. Come on—come in.” Gerard heard the front door close and then the living room couch creak as the two sat down.

The guest mumbled something and Gerard’s blood ran cold when he recognized the voice. Mikey… It was Mikey. He fought so hard to bite back the urge to scream for his little brother to get the hell away from Frank—to run and never look back.

The very last thing he wanted in the world was to end up tied to the same bed where his little brother was being beaten and tortured. He didn’t care if Frank kept him forever and tortured him until he was dead—he just didn’t want Mikey hurt.

Even if it was entirely Mikey’s fault that he was here, he couldn’t be mad at Mikey—and he didn’t wish this pain on anyone.

“Mikes—can you hold on for just a second?” Frank said. Gerard stiffened because he heard Frank get up and start coming toward the bedroom.

He stayed silent even though he was shaking so hard the bed was even moving. He couldn’t upset Frank, he had to prove his obedience so that he didn’t get killed…or get Mikey killed.

“Hey,” Frank whispered after entering the bedroom and closing the door behind him. Gerard slowly started siting up, despite the pain that tore through him from the weeks of abuse. He looked at Frank with wide, loving eyes filled with terror and anxiety as his captor came to him quickly, undoing his belt and then undoing the button on his jeans. “Open your mouth.”

Gerard hesitated—but only because he had to suppress the thoughts of “now?” and “ _really?_ right now?”—but of course he obeyed. He opened his mouth wide and let his tongue come out just enough to cover his lower row of teeth. 

Frank came to the side of the bed and grabbed Gerard firmly by the back of the head, pulling Gerard down so that his mouth completely enveloped his dick. Gerard let Frank guide his head up and down, feeling the smooth skin sliding along his tongue as the bitter pre-cum dripped down the back of his throat and leaked out of his mouth with the lines of his drool. 

“You stay quiet now,” Frank panted, starting to fuck Gerard’s mouth while Gerard’s own brother sat in the next room. Gerard gave up on trying to understand why Frank did what he did—he just let the man get off on the tension and uncertainty. “Or I’m gonna bring your little brother in here and fuck him on the bed right beside you.” Gerard couldn’t hold back the wail of fear as Frank pulled completely out of his mouth despite being hard and still leaking. “Not a sound,” Frank seethed, redoing his pants and leaving the room after composing himself. “Sorry, Mikey—I had my mom on the phone.—No, no it’s no trouble. I can call her anytime. Are you feeling okay?—I know it’s been rough.”

Swallowing back the bitter taste in his mouth, Gerard tried to catch a word of what Mikey said, but his brother was just mumbling in despair. Finally, though, his voice rose above a mutter.

“I mean…did you see him _talking_ to anyone? I know you left before he did, but…I miss him so much. There has to be some clue that we missed—I mean, what was his car doing on the edge of the city? Just _sitting_ there!”

“I don’t know, Mikey,” Frank lied. Gerard gurgled in anger—hating Frank for torturing his brother and still calling himself Mikey’s best friend. 

“I’m so worried,” he heard Mikey groan. “I…I think he’s dead.”

“Dead?” Frank echoed, his voice disgustingly calm.

“Where else would he be?” Mikey asked. “It’s not _Gerard_ to just…to just _leave._ ”

“You said he was suicidal,” Frank stated as if making a point. Mikey made a noise like he was in pain and Gerard whimpered softly, biting into the filthy bed sheets to muffle the noise in case Frank somehow heard him. “You know—I don’t blame him for running off. And I say this because I’m your friend.”

“What?” Mikey stammered. Gerard lifted his head off of the bed and stared at the bedroom door.

“I mean—you _made_ him go to that party and you didn’t even talk to him. All you did was tell everyone you were sorry he was even there.” Gerard whimpered, the loudness of the noise surprising him and making him drop back down onto the bed as if expecting a blow to the back of the head. “Mikey…it’s no wonder he’s suicidal. You introduce him to a conversation by apologizing for him, like you’re ashamed of him.”

“I know,” Mikey whimpered. “But he knows I love him!”

“Yeah, but you broke his heart. I could see it in his face when I talked to him. You were his only friend there, and it was like you wished he didn’t exist.” Gerard made a soft noise in the back of his throat as he listened to Frank torture Mikey for thirty more minutes without his brother even being aware of it.

When Mikey left, Gerard laid still on the mattress waiting for Frank to come back to finish—or begin—whatever torture he had in mind. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank burst into the bedroom and grabbed Gerard in his arms, forcing a deep kiss onto his mouth and sucking on his bottom lip harshly while running his fingers through his hair. Just talking about how weak and pathetic Gerard was with Mikey set him off—he wanted more. The teasing little blow job was enough to keep him focused for the conversation—keep him day dreaming while Mikey cried.

“Fuckin’ love the fucking shit out of you,” Frank snarled, biting Gerard’s lower lip hard in order to hear the man squeak in pain. “God—you wasted so much time hiding, Gerard. If you didn’t hide, you’d have so many people after you.” Frank sank his teeth into the flesh of Gerard’s neck and pushed the other man down against the mattress. “Had to hurt—how long has he been apologizing for you?” Gerard turned his face away and whimpered—not wanting to think about how much of an embarrassment he was to Mikey and the rest of his family. 

Frank punched him when he didn’t answer and Gerard rolled onto his side under Frank’s hips.

“He says he loves you, but he treated you like shit,” Frank moaned, kissing Gerard’s throat over top of the bite mark he’d left. “God, I’d fuckin’ treat you so good if we were public. Hold your hand, kiss you, parade you—no one would ever catch me apologizing because you exist.” Gerard whimpered as Frank started undoing his belt, turning Frank on even more. “I love you so much,” Frank growled as he forced himself between Gerard’s legs, and smirked down at his captive.

“No!” Gerard screamed, eyes snapping open wide. “No—please! Please! Frankie—I’m hurt! Please!” Frank sighed and pulled back, remembering the damage he’d already caused and how awful their last fuck had been because of it. “Anything else—I’ll do anything—please.” 

“Fine,” Frank said, pulling back and dragging Gerard up with him. “Finish what we started earlier. Suck.” Frank smirked when Gerard lowered his head and took him into his mouth like he loved it. Frank moaned softly and ran his fingers through Gerard’s thick hair, guiding his head back and forth. It was obvious that Gerard had no clue what to do with his mouth besides hollow his cheeks and keep his teeth from scratching anything, but Frank gave him credit for trying. “Good, Baby,” Frank moaned. “But take it a little deeper, huh?” Frank held Gerard’s head still for a moment in order to thrust into the back of his throat. He felt Gerard gag and pulled back slightly before thrusting into his mouth again, slowly working out his gag reflex. “Good boy,” Frank hummed.

Gerard made a strange, gurgling sound and squirmed. 

“It’s okay—try moving your tongue a little, huh?” Gerard whimpered but did as Frank said. Eventually, he got the hang of moving his head back and forth and sliding his tongue up and down Frank’s shaft. In a matter of minutes, he had Frank moaning and bucking into his mouth.

It was by no stretch the best head Frank had ever gotten, but it still felt fantastic. It was the physical pleasure mixed with the rush of knowing that he owned Gerard completely. No smart man let his victim hold his dick in its mouth—it was too easy to get bitten. Once those teeth sunk in, there was no way he’d be calm enough to attack back.

“So close, Baby—oh, so close,” Frank moaned, holding Gerard’s head in order to fuck his mouth once again. Gerard held still and let him, not even making a sound in protest. He was so happy his little ass wasn’t getting ripped open again that he was willing to let Frank do anything—even cum down his throat.

Gerard stared up at Frank with anxiety as he swallowed what Frank gave him—making his captor moan. He couldn’t have wished for a better night.

“Good boy,” Frank said, letting go of Gerard’s head so the other man could sit up. Gerard rubbed the back of his neck gently like that was the only thing he found unpleasant and kept his eyes fixed on Frank’s. “What?” Frank asked.

“I…I’m…”

“What?” Frank asked, gently stroking Gerard’s cheek with the back of his fingers. 

“Lunch?” Gerard asked, sniffing and then lifting a hand to wipe the spit and cum off of his lips. 

“Yeah, Baby,” Frank said, fixing his pants and getting off of his bed. “Put something on and come eat with me in the kitchen.” Gerard stared at him as if surprised, and then nodded.

It was time, Frank decided, to take things to the next level. If Gerard didn’t scream for Mikey when he heard his brother’s voice in the next room, he wasn’t going to run away if he was given more freedom. Frank had him now. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank had anticipated a bad reaction—but not _this_ bad. No man (no man that didn’t want it at least) liked the idea of having his dick pierced, but Gerard took that dislike to an entirely different level.

Gerard didn’t just cry and sob like normal—he screamed and screamed and _screamed._ It was like Frank was killing him and he hadn’t done anything but flash in front of his eyes the piercing device he’d “borrowed” from his friend’s tattoo parlor. Gerard took one look at it and shrieked like it was already going through the flesh of his pathetic cock. 

For the first time in days he started fighting back again, shoving and clawing at Frank to keep him away. Frank made quick work of his rebellion by punching him in the face and taking advantage of his pain in order to bind his wrists to the headboard of the bed. 

“No!” Gerard screamed. “No!—Not that! Please!” Frank was amused for nearly ten minutes with Gerard’s terror because every time he moved Gerard would scream.

“I haven’t even told you what I’m piercing yet, Baby,” Frank cooed. Gerard wailed and shook his head rapidly. “What?” Frank asked, climbing onto the bed to lay beside Gerard, just to taunt him with fake concern. He twisted the needle in his hand and watched Gerard’s body shudder.

“I’m going to be sick!” Gerard sobbed. Frank rolled his eyes until Gerard started coughing and gagging. Not sure what to do, but willing to do anything to make sure he didn’t actually throw up, Frank slapped Gerard across the face which somehow calmed him…or put him in shock.

“What’s your problem?”

“Needles,” Gerard wailed. “I don’t like them,” he cried. It was like the thought telling Frank this might change what he had in mind. Didn’t he already know that Frank loved nothing more than to hurt him?

“Aw…my poor baby,” Frank cooed, stroking Gerard’s cheek with the knuckle of one of his fingers. 

“Please—don’t do this,” Gerard sobbed, his voice raw. “Please—I can’t…”

“Yes you can,” Frank said, grinning madly. “All you have to do is lay still. Each time you fight, it’s another piercing you get. I’ve got three in mind.” As soon as the sentence left his lips, Gerard started screaming once again. “I’ll do one tonight!” Frank snapped.

“No! Please, Frankie—Don’t! I can’t! I can’t! Frankie—No! I—God no!” His words turned to random cries—fragments of phrases and words of horror.

“It’ll only hurt for a minute,” Frank lied. Gerard shook his head against the pillow and sobbed. His face was red and raw from tears, distorted by pain and horror.

“Frankie,” Gerard sobbed. “Why?”

“To _torture_ you,” Frank said. Gerard moaned in agony, as if this concept was new to him. 

“Please—what are you going to do?” Gerard couldn’t even keep his eyes open through the overflow of tears. 

“Pierce your dick,” Frank said bluntly, and then began to smile when Gerard lost his cool all over again. Gerard thrashed, kicked and pulled his restraints, tossed his head uselessly from side to side while screaming in his terror and agony—trapped in an inescapable Hell.

Frank loved it—if Gerard’s body were in better condition, he’d fuck him before the ‘operation.’

“No,” Gerard choked out, sobbing. “Please, Frank—I can’t. No.” He’d tired himself out with all of his thrashing and settled for squeezing his legs shut to protect his cock from Frank’s needle.

“Don’t make me bind your legs,” Frank muttered, getting up in order to find the ties. He knew he’d have to. If only he’d known of Gerard’s needle phobia…then he’d have saved this trip into piercing for a much better time. A punishment, an abuse…not an everyday torment.

When his ankles were bound, Gerard laid still on the bed and sobbed. It was the most pitiful that Frank had ever seen him. Like this was more devastating than being raped and kidnapped. A little piece of metal poking through his flesh was more horrific than sexual assault…

“Frank—how can I change your mind?” Gerard cried, his words hardly audible. 

“You can’t,” Frank answered. “This is going to happen—right now.” Gerard wailed and stared at Frank desperately as he got up from the bed to find the other things he needed to sanitize the area—and the device. 

( ) ( ) ( )

It was the worst pain Gerard could ever imagine. Feeling the curved needle press in through the urethra and then tear and rip its way through the soft and too sensitive flesh of the head of his cock. It was the worst torture Gerard could possibly imagine—the last place he wanted a needle was the first place Frank decided to victimize. 

Frank said he loved him, but no matter how much Gerard begged he hadn’t changed his mind. He pulled the needle back out and then twisted the ring into place, closing it with a tiny silver ball that he pushed against the opening of Gerard’s dick. 

“There now,” Frank whispered into Gerard’s ear—ringing from the sound of his own screams. “Was that so bad?” Gerard didn’t answer, just breathed with shaking breaths and stared in shock at the ceiling. The pain was still stabbing through him—not at all the short, fleeting pain that everyone told him happened when ears were pierced. “Hm, Baby?”

Gerard moaned in horror, not able to form words but too afraid of what would happen if he didn’t answer his master. 

“You know the next spot I’m going to do?” Gerard screamed again, a raw, haggard and high-pitched noise.

“No,” he moaned. “No, Frank—please…”

“Aw, Baby, not tonight. Later sometime.” Gerard moaned in horror and sobbed. Knowing where Frank was going to say—along his shaft, perhaps. Or his balls…or his nipples, or his lips or his eyes…something awful. Someplace horrible. “Don’t cry anymore—you’re tiring me out.” Gerard choked and shook his head. “You’ll like this little ring a few days,” Frank said, changing the subject. Gerard whimpered when Frank reached down and stroked him once before grabbing the fresh piercing and rocking it back and forth, sending shooting pains up his dick.

“I want to die,” Gerard sobbed. He knew it was the wrong thing to say when Frank grabbed the piercing and tugged it hard.

“You like that, Bitch?” Frank snapped, twisting the ring and making Gerard throw his head to the side in agony. “Tell me you want to die again and see what happens.” Gerard moaned in pain and shook his head.

“I want Mikey,” Gerard sniffed, unable to say anything else. He hurt, he was scared—he just wanted comfort. He wanted to hide and shield himself from the pain. 

“You want Mikey?” Frank asked, surprising Gerard when he kept his tone level. Gerard didn’t answer, just laid and shivered, bound to the bed. “What if I told you that I’d let you talk to Mikey?” Frank mumbled, his voice vacant of tone.

“I’d do anything you said,” Gerard cried weakly. “I just want him to know I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay,” Frank said, laughing. “You’re being tortured and held against your will. What are you going to say to Mikey?”

“That I love him,” Gerard sobbed. “That he doesn’t need to worry.”

“He should worry,” Frank said. “I’ll let you call Mikey if you let me write you a script that you will follow…” Gerard thought about it but couldn’t be daunted. He knew there’d be a price, but he wanted to hear Mikey and let him know that this wasn’t his fault…that he didn’t blame him.

“Can I tell him it’s not his fault?”

“You’ll say what I say you can,” Frank spat. Gerard looked away. “Still want to?” Gerard slowly nodded and let his tears dry on his cheeks. He was so tired. He couldn’t fight anymore. His only comfort was the thought of hearing Mikey’s voice. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Two days after his piercing, Gerard woke up when Frank came home from work by having a disposable cell phone thrown at his head.

“Call fucking Mikey,” Frank said. “Practice acting skills,” he added, throwing a notepad at the bed which hit Gerard in the face. “Read that and not another word. I’ll be sitting here,” Frank said, sitting down at the foot of the bed and staring at Gerard blankly. Gerard suddenly felt like he’d somehow hurt Frank’s feelings and that was why he was showing so little emotion.

“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard said quietly, sitting up and grabbing the phone and notepad. His hand shook as he dialed Mikey’s number, and his heart almost stopped when Mikey picked up on what had to be the very last ring. 

“Hello?” Mikey said, sounding confused.

“Mikey,” Gerard said, his nerve endings shooting sparks and his skin prickling as soon as he heard Mikey’s voice. Frank slapped Gerard’s leg painfully and gestured to the notepad. One word in and Gerard had already gone against the script.

“Gerard?” Mikey said, his voice sounding so excited and so full of disbelief. “Gerard—where are you?”

“Mikey,” Gerard said, reading the script and preparing his next line, body shaking. He didn’t want to upset Frank and get slapped. “I’m…I’m not coming home,” Gerard read, eyes tearing up immediately because somehow those words destroyed the hopes he had of Frank seeing reason and letting him go free. 

“Why?” Mikey asked, sounding devastated. “Why not? Where are you?”

“Ask him why he cares,” Frank mumbled, going against script but Gerard would rather obey his words than the paper.

“Why do you care?” Gerard asked, almost sobbing. 

“Gerard, I love you—you’re my big brother. I’m sorry about the party. I didn’t see how much it was hurting you—I didn’t mean it. I won’t do it again, I promise. You mean more to me than those people.”

“You never cared about me,” Gerard read. “You hate me, so I’m just getting out of your way.” Gerard whimpered softly, hating the way Frank was hurting his brother through him. Frank was nearly evil—he got so much pleasure from hurting others. 

“No, I don’t hate you!” Mikey said. “Gerard, really! Please, _please_ listen. I love you. Please come home—Mom and Dad so worried. I know it’s my fault—if you’d forgive me.” Mikey started crying and Gerard looked at Frank desperately. 

“Read the fucking paper,” Frank hissed. 

“I’ll never forgive you,” Gerard said, biting his lip against the sob in his throat. He could tell his words took Mikey off guard. All his brother could do was stammer in horror. “You…made a fool of me. You made it so I couldn’t have friends because every time we’d go, you’d tell them that I was…a freak.” Gerard stared at the paper and suddenly wondered what Mikey _had_ said behind his back. “You’d apologize for me when I’d done nothing but what you asked me to. You made me feel like I was an embarrassment to you, and like…like I wasn’t part of your family. So I’m leaving because…” Gerard swallowed back a sob because Frank understood his feelings so well. Frank was making him say what he’d never dared voice before. Even if they were Frank’s words on the page, they were the thoughts in Gerard’s soul. “…because you never appreciated me anyway, and now you won’t have to apologize for your weird, alcoholic brother.”

“Gerard, no,” Mikey said, sniffing and sighing deeply. “I’ll never do it again—I don’t want to hurt you. Please, come back—we’ll talk about it in person. I swear, I won’t hurt you anymore. I’m not ashamed of you—I don’t care what people think.”

“Yes you do,” Gerard said. It wasn’t on the script, but it Frank seemed to approve of the words because he said nothing. “You never cared about me. You wanted this to happen to me,” Gerard mumbled, devastated because he bet it was true. He bet Mikey had said he wanted Gerard to disappear, and Frank the Psycho heard and made that dream come true for his best friend.

It was all Mikey’s fault.

“Wanted what to happen?” Mikey asked.

“Hang up the phone,” Frank said. Gerard flinched, scared by how loudly Frank spoke.

“Gerard?” Mikey said, sounding confused. 

“Hang up, Gerard,” Frank insisted, glaring at Gerard murderously. Gerard’s body froze out of fear and he couldn’t feel his hand to hang up.

“Gerard, who’s that with you?” Mikey asked urgently. “Where are you?”

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Frank hissed, lunging for Gerard instantly. Gerard thought he’d go for the phone and was prepared to hand it to him, but Frank went instead for Gerard’s piercing. Gerard squeaked in fear just before Frank grabbed the ring and yanked it. 

The pain was immediate and Gerard couldn’t suppress the scream. His misery only grew as Frank twisted the ring and showed no sign of letting up.

Gerard screamed in agony, finding his body again but the pain blotting out his thoughts.

“Frankie, please!” He screamed. Frank looked up at him with a look of horror and hell’s rage. He released the piercing only to grab Gerard’s entire package—digging in with his nails and twisting his tightly squeezing fist to cause the most pain imaginable. 

Gerard wailed, his voice going shrill before he realized that his brother was still on the line, screaming at him to find out where he was, who he was with, and if he was alright. As soon as he remembered, he ended the call and threw the phone away, hoping it would stop his torture.

“Fucking idiot!” Frank screamed, letting Gerard go and then slapping him across the face. Gerard sobbed and breathed apologies. The disposable phone began to ring, but that just increased Frank’s rage. “Stupid whore! I fuckin’ want to kill you!” Gerard screamed pathetically as Frank fisted a hand in his hair and pulled him off of the bed onto the floor where he was repeatedly kicked in every sensitive area—groin, stomach, face, and even throat and Gerard lay gasping for air and trembling.

Frank did look ready to kill until his own phone rang in the other room.

“Move and you’re _fucking_ dead, you stupid worthless whore,” Frank seethed, kicking Gerard one last time and leaving the room. Gerard sobbed and shook, feeling as if he were dead already. He wanted to hide—to crawl under the bed and never come out again, but he knew Frank would torture him more if he so much as twitched a finger.

“Mikey—Mikey calm down,” Frank said, Mikey having called him to tell what happened. “What do you mean he called you?” Gerard lay on the floor, mesmerized by Frank’s ability to lie as if he were telling the truth. He was so convincing with his fake concern and bogus advice. 

Gerard’s body went stiff when he heard Frank walking back towards the bedroom. He stood in the doorway glaring at Gerard viciously for a moment before putting his cell phone on speaker so Gerard could hear what Mikey was saying.

“—and the last thing I heard,” Mikey sobbed. “Someone was hurting him—he was screaming. Frank, what did I do? Why would someone hurt him like that?”

“I’m sure it was for show,” Frank said. “By the sounds of it, he wanted you to feel guilty.”

“You didn’t hear him!” Mikey cried. “He was crying—he was talking to someone. I heard someone’s voice.”

“A voice?” Frank asked, glaring at Gerard as if he didn’t remember this having happened.

“Telling him to hang up. Someone has him, Frank. Why?” Frank sighed and took the phone off speaker and left the room again. Gerard watched him leave and whimpered in utter pain. He didn’t know which was worse, his irritated piercing, his bruised stomach, his reeling throat, or his bloody nose…

Gerard was so scared of what was going to happen when Frank came back into the room, but he knew for a fact that it meant pain.

“Mikey, you don’t need to come over!” Frank called. Gerard froze. “Because you’re not well! Mikey—I’ll come to you. Okay? I want you to be with someone, but you’re safe to drive like this. I don’t want you hurt.” Gerard began whimpering because he didn’t want tied up again, but knew he would be. He was very scared…because if Frank didn’t tie him, he was afraid that he might try to escape. “Okay, Mikey. I’ll see you soon. Just…try to calm down.”

Frank hung up and came back to the bedroom.

“Get your ass on the bed,” Frank hissed. Gerard tried hard to stand, but the pain in his groin and stomach kept him hunched over and stumbling. “Get on the bed!” Frank screamed, fisting a hand in Gerard’s hair and shoving him towards the mattress. “Fucking idiot! Need to die!” Gerard moaned in agony and exhaustion as Frank punched him in the back of the head.

He didn’t fight as Frank bound his wrists to the headboard, and didn’t so much as squirm when Frank grabbed a dildo from the bedside drawer and thrust it deep inside of him.

“Falls out and you’re getting the worst one, and it’s staying in for twenty-four hours. Let that fall out and see if you think I’m kidding…” Frank left without another word and Gerard sobbed into the pillow as soon as the front door closed. He wanted Mikey…and after six hours, he wanted Frank.

He wanted anyone…

( ) ( ) ( )

The first thing Frank heard when he got home from Mikey’s was Gerard’s pleasing sobs. He loved hearing the man cry—his voice was so perfect when it was distressed. 

“Frankie,” Gerard sobbed. Frank sighed and went back to his bedroom where he’d left Gerard tied, his anger having fled. Mikey knew Gerard had been kidnapped which wasn’t a good thing, but he didn’t have a clue as to who had him. Frank was still safe, so there was no reason to beat Gerard to death yet. “Frank,” Gerard cried again when he turned his head and spotted Frank in the doorway. His entire face was red from the force of his crying and bruised from all of Frank’s blows. “I missed you,” Gerard whimpered.

“Missed me?” Frank said, going over to him and tearing the dildo from his body, making Gerard shriek.

“Yeah,” Gerard whined. 

“How could you possibly miss me?” Frank hissed. No one ever missed him—if he were to go missing, he doubted even Mikey would care.

“I don’t like being alone,” Gerard cried, gasping as his wrists were unbound. His stiff, numb hands dropped down onto the pillow where he left them lifelessly. Frank was almost worried that he’d cut off circulation until he saw the fingers twitch. “And if you leave me, I’ll die,” Gerard added, still crying softly but looking so much calmer than he had just seconds before.

“You’re gonna die anyway,” Frank said. “Wouldn’t you rather go painlessly?” 

“Starvation’s not painless,” Gerard mumbled, watching Frank as walked across the room to his closet. 

“It hurts less than a fucking beating—which is what you’re going to get if you don’t shut your mouth.” Gerard whimpered and laid flat against the bed. But he couldn’t keep quiet. He was just too happy to have the attention. 

“I missed you,” he repeated. 

“No you didn’t,” Frank snapped. “You were just afraid of being left here with that thing up your ass until the cops came and found you.” Gerard made a sad noise and nuzzled the pillow. “How’s your dick?” 

“Hurts,” Gerard mumbled ashamedly. 

“Good. If you’d just listened to me I wouldn’t have had to rip at it.”

“I won’t disobey you again,” Gerard whimpered. Frank snorted.

“Yeah, that’s why I pierced you there. It gives you more incentive to listen to me, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Gerard whimpered pathetically. 

“Is it bleeding?” Frank asked, sitting down on the bed beside Gerard and stroking his back softly.

“I don’t want to know,” Gerard whimpered, nuzzling the pillow again and sighing. “It hurts enough…It all hurts.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank mumbled, sliding his hand down to Gerard’s ass and squeezing it harshly. Gerard grunted but otherwise didn’t protest. Smirking, Frank pulled his hand back and slapped Gerard’s ass hard, making his victim gasp. Frank slapped him again, knowing it was hardly causing his victim any pain compared to what Frank usually did but loving the novelty of it.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of coming home from work, taking off his belt, and giving his little pet a good beating with it.

Frank moaned and rubbed Gerard’s ass softly, liking the feel of it under his hand. 

“Frank,” Gerard mumbled.

“Yeah, Babe?”

“Will you stay home with me tomorrow?” Frank stared at him in confusion. What the hell was wrong with this guy? Shouldn’t he be praying for Frank to leave him in peace?

“No, I’m going to go to work.”

“I want you to stay with me,” Gerard whimpered.

“I’ll come home for lunch,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. And then he’d lose his belt on his victim’s ass and leave him bound and weeping (hopefully) and vulnerable to another thrashing as soon as Frank got off work for the day.

“Okay,” Gerard mumbled, giving in.

“In the meantime, go take a shower. You stink.” Gerard slowly crawled off of the bed and onto his feet. He walked hunched over, one hand clutching his cock and then other on his bruised stomach. “Wait,” Frank said when Gerard tried to stumble past him. “I want to see your dick—I want to know if I hurt it.” With a reluctant moan, Gerard moved his hand out of the way and flinched in terror when Frank reached for him.

The piercing was a perfect idea—not only was it sexy, it was the best punishment. One tug and Gerard was sorry and at his mercy.

There was more than just a dot of blood coming from the piercing—more than what fell when Frank had pierced it. 

“Is it bleeding?” Gerard asked, refusing to look for himself and staring up at the ceiling.

“A little bit,” Frank muttered, rubbing Gerard’s tip gently with his thumb. Gerard was still in too much pain to feel anything pleasurable, but Frank wasn’t in the mood to make him feel anything pleasant. “Wash it good—I’m not taking care of you if you get an infection. Your worthless little cock can fall off for all I care.” Frank toyed with the idea of hitting Gerard in the dick one last time for the night before sending him to the shower, but decided against it. 

“I can’t fix it if there’s something wrong with it?” Gerard stammered. 

“No,” Frank answered. “Why would you want to save your worthless dick? You have no use for it—get in the shower.” Gerard made a sad noise and limped out of the room. Frank stood outside of the bathroom door and listened to Gerard sob and moan as he washed himself. Frank guessed when the cries went shrill that Gerard was cleaning his new piercing.

When Gerard left the bathroom he was crying hard and shivering.

“That bad, hu?” Frank said. Gerard nodded rapidly and sobbed. Frank sighed and pulled Gerard into his arms, giving him a gentle hug just to console him. Gerard nuzzled Frank’s shoulder lovingly and cried into the crook of his neck. “It’ll stop—so long as you don’t piss me off again and make me rip it out.”

“No!” Gerard cried, holding Frank tighter and shaking his head on Frank’s shoulder. “No—I won’t make you mad! No…”

“I don’t want to have to redo it…and if you don’t want it infected, clean it yourself.”

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard cried. Frank nuzzled him and let him go. 

“Go lay on the bed. You need sleep,” Frank mumbled. Gerard made a soft sound and obeyed, creeping to the bedroom and curling up on the filthy sheets. Frank would have him wash them tomorrow. It was getting nasty sleeping on blood and cum stains. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard screamed and buried in face in the stinking sheets. Two more slashes across the backs of his thighs with Frank’s belt and he chokes on his strangled cry. He never thought a spanking could hurt so bad—but he was sure Frank could make anything excruciating. 

“Frank,” Gerard sobbed. “Please, stop,” he begged, voice cracking. Frank pulled his belt back and swung again, the sharp sound of it cutting the air made Gerard flinch even before the leather cracked into his flesh. “Ow!” Gerard wailed, sobbing and screaming in the same breath.

He’d done nothing to make Frank angry, but he was still being punished. He didn’t even try to roll onto his stomach to stop the blows—even though his wrists were unbound he didn’t try to cover himself. He’d hoped it would make it so Frank stopped sooner, but his good behavior seemed to have no effect on his beating.

“Shut up and take it,” Frank hissed, swinging the belt again and again and again. Gerard screamed into the pillow, his whole body shaking from the pain. He knew that his skin was broken, blistered, and bleeding. He knew he was damaged and would be left scarred and bruised.

Gerard wailed, the force of each blow splitting his skin. Frank let the strikes fall in a rapid succession—no breaks for tears or breaths. 

Slap—Gerard screamed, tears falling down his face. Slap—Gerard gasped, drool falling from his mouth. Slap—Gerard started to gag. The pain was so intense his stomach was staring to twist. 

“Frank,” he screamed, unable to keep his voice at any other volume.

“You think this is bad?” Frank asked, swinging the belt but hitting the bed instead of Gerard’s flesh. Gerard still screamed, just from the anticipation and fear. “Wait til I get back from work.” Gerard shivered and sobbed as Frank draped the belt over his back and left it laying there. 

“What did I do wrong?” Gerard wailed, his voice quieter but still overcome with tears.

“Aw, Babe,” Frank said, petting Gerard’s hair gently. “You still think I’m punishing you? Have you forgotten why I brought you here to live with me? I like hurting you—it’s not punishment, it’s play.” Gerard made a distressed sound and buried his face in the pillow. “Get these sheets washed before I get home,” Frank said, backing up and enjoying his handy work. 

Gerard shivered when Frank pulled open one of his dresser drawers. Gerard knew what was going to happen and opened his legs slowly, crying out from the pain. His entire ass was stinging and raw, some cuts he was sure went straight through his skin and fat down to his muscles. 

It didn’t stop Frank from giving one of cheeks a painful slap and then a harsh squeeze as he spread them further in order to force a medium-sized rubber plug inside of him.

“Hold that in until I get home. You don’t want to know what I’ll do if it falls out.” Gerard let his sobs wrack his body and clenched down on the plug, gasping in pain. 

“Hurts,” Gerard cried. “It really hurts me.” The drool ran down to his chin and dripped onto the messy sheets.

“Good,” Frank said, slapping Gerard’s ass one last time with his hand before leaving, slamming the apartment door behind him.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank had managed to slap Gerard across his busted, bleeding ass fifteen times before Gerard twisted around on the mattress and latched onto him. At first, Frank thought Gerard was trying to attack him, but then he realized Gerard was frantically hugging him. He couldn’t push him off.

“No, Frankie,” Gerard sobbed, his voice raw. “Please, Frankie—no more. No more… Please.” Gerard was screaming in between words, his screams disguised as sobs. “Ow!” Frank didn’t like it, so he fisted his hand in the destroyed flesh of Gerard’s ass. “Ow! Stop! Frank! Ouch!” Frank released his grip and Gerard fell off of his lap onto the bedroom floor. 

“Quit being a baby,” Frank said, repeating what he heard so many times when getting beaten as a child. “You know you deserve it.” The words haunted him, but not because of the pain that had accompanied them. They haunted him because those words were the only lie his mother had ever told him. He didn’t deserve it. He knew he didn’t deserve it—she just wouldn’t believe him the only time it mattered.

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” Gerard sobbed. “Ow…no more. Please? _Please?_ ” Gerard curled up on the floor and cried in agony. 

“Yes, more,” Frank said. “You want me to rip out that ring?”

“No!” Gerard screamed. “No! No Frankie!”

“Yes—get back on the bed.” Frank flashed his belt in front of Gerard’s eyes just to watch his terror. 

“No!” Gerard cried, not a resistance but an expression of his fear. “Frank! Oh—no!”

“On the bed,” Frank said, slashing the belt across Gerard’s side. 

“Ow—Frank,” Gerard pleaded. He couldn’t get himself on the bed—he was too afraid to submit, even if he knew the pain would be worse if he didn’t. “Please.”

“On the bed,” Frank said again, slapping him again and getting part of his damaged ass with the end of the belt. Gerard screamed and clawed at his own face in pain. “Quit it!” Frank shouted, kicking Gerard’s hands away from his face. He didn’t want that pretty face damaged.

“Frank—I don’t want it.”

“You want me to rip out that piercing and redo it somewhere else on your little cock?” Frank said, staring down at Gerard’s curled body. “Fine,” he said after a minute of silence.

“No!” Gerard screamed when Frank got down beside him and tried to force his knees apart. “No! No—don’t! Please, Frankie! Please! No more! I can’t!”

“Open your fucking legs,” Frank spat. 

“No!” Gerard screamed, this time refusing. “No—Frank, you can’t!”

“Yes I can,” Frank screamed. “Open your legs!”

“No!” Gerard cried, covering his face and curling into a shaking ball. “Frankie—I love you! I love you, please stop!” Frank stared at him, frozen and angry. “Frank, you know I love you—stop this.” Gerard’s cries were nothing but deep, shaking gasps. “I love you so much—please don’t do this to me. I love you.” Frank growled and shoved Gerard away on the floor. 

He couldn’t torture him with words like that coming out of his mouth.

He needed to get the gag…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard kissed Frank’s lips deeply and ran his fingers under Frank’s chin to tip it a little higher. 

“Stop it,” Frank said, brushing Gerard’s hands away. Gerard made a soft groaning noise and placed his lips over Frank’s again, kissing him hungrily. “What’s your deal?” Frank asked, turning his face away. 

“I love you,” Gerard cooed, laying his head down on Frank’s chest and sighing softly as Frank began petting his hair. 

“Of course you do,” Frank said. Gerard made a soft cooing sound and wrapped his arms around Frank’s torso, loving being able to cuddle. He was just about to fall asleep when he heard someone start pounding on the front door.

It was scary feeling Frank’s whole body go stiff beneath him. Gerard turned to look over his shoulder at the bedroom doorway and whimpered.

“Gotta get up,” Frank said, pushing Gerard away and standing up. Gerard groaned as Frank walked away, and flinched when the bedroom door slammed. He knew the rules when they had company. Stay on the bed and stay quiet.

If the business went bad, Gerard would be beaten horribly. If the visit went well, he’d be beaten and fucked. The pain really didn’t get to him anymore—only the rough tugs on his dick piercing and the spankings Frank was so fond of left him reeling in agony. 

“Mikey—what are you doing here?” Frank said. Gerard stiffened and then hunkered down on the bed as if he could become two dimensional and flatten himself on the sheets to disappear.

“Ray and I wanted to hang out,” Mikey said, almost sounding cheerful. There was still a tiredness and sadness in his voice, but it was nothing like the despair he used to possess. “You never come out anymore…We miss you.” 

Gerard sighed and prepared for Frank to come back in the room to put a toy inside of him for a little while. He always put a toy in him when guests came over—Frank said it gave him something to keep his mind occupied. 

“Where you going?” Ray said.

“I gotta get somethin’ from my room,” Frank said. “I’ll be right back.”

“You _always_ go back to your room when we come over—what have you got back there?” Mikey said. 

“Nothing,” Frank snapped. He was too defensive—Frank never lost his cool. Gerard was surprised and terrified. “I’ll be right back.”

“No, really!” Mikey called, laughing. “What are you hiding? Porn?”

“Yeah, porn, whatever,” Frank said, rattling the doorknob. “Stay out of it.”

“Be cool man,” Ray said. “We’re not going to spoil your secret.” Ray and Mikey laughed and Gerard felt his breathing speed up from his fear. 

Frank came back into the bedroom and closed the door firmly. 

“You make a sound—”

“And they’re all dead,” Gerard said quietly. “I know.”

“Shut up,” Frank whispered harshly. Gerard nodded and watched Frank pull the uncomfortably thick dildo out of his dresser drawer. “Put this in,” he said, throwing it at him. “Be quiet about it.” Gerard waited until Frank had gone and then laid back on the bed in order to fit the awful toy inside. It hurt like hell—his body having been ravaged viciously the night before, but he succeeded in burying it all of the way, save for an inch that he’d need to use to pull it out.

He sighed softly and focused on the intense feeling of being full. Gerard had been certain before he’d been taken that he wasn’t gay…but the feeling that these toys gave him were wonderful. He loved the stretch and the burn and the _intensity._

So good…so good…


	3. Cry All You Want To (I Don't Care)

Gerard was cleaning up dishes when Frank got home from work. He really should’ve been done by now, but he was working slow—just to reenact the classic scene of Husband and Wife. Husband comes home, Wife is doing dishes with dinner on the table.

“You’re not done with those yet?” Frank asked, sitting down at the table and taking a bite of dinner. “This is good, Babe.”

“Thank you,” Gerard said, turning off the faucet and sitting down slowly across from his captor. 

“What’s the occasion? You’re giving me that look.” 

‘That look’ was what Gerard managed to concoct as a mixture of seduction and anxiety. It was his way of controlling when Frank began his tortures, but did little more than that. 

“No occasion,” Gerard mumbled. “Just want to be nice…” Frank hummed and picked at his dinner. 

“You know…I think I’ll go easy on you tonight.” Gerard stared at him in disbelief. What did that mean? What did those words mean to Frank? “As long as you behave.”

“You know I’ll do whatever you say,” Gerard said softly. “What would you…want me to do?” He asked, setting down his fork and looking at Frank sadly.

“Finish your dinner,” Frank said. Gerard picked his fork back up and started eating quicker. “Not that fast,” Frank added. Gerard slowed down and copied Frank’s pace so that they finished at the same time. “Clean this, then come back to the bedroom.” Gerard nodded and cleared the table. He began the dishes and hurried to the room, making sure his hands were washed of the stink of food. 

“Frankie?” Gerard said, peeking into the bedroom and trying to keep his dinner down when he saw Frank’s belt laid across the bed. He didn’t want a beating…He didn’t want hurt again—he’d just regained his ability sit down.

“Come on,” Frank said. “Bed,” he said, pointing to the bed and then turning back to the dresser drawer that held all of their toys.

Gerard withheld all sounds of fear and discomfort as he crept to the bed and laid down. He stared at Frank’s belt and fought the urge to hide it under the blankets. He didn’t want hit with that. He didn’t want that—he didn’t…he didn’t.

“Frankie?” Gerard mumbled. 

“What?” Frank asked, throwing a dildo over his shoulder that hit Gerard on the face before falling onto the bed. Gerard stared at it…surprised at how average it was. How small and seemingly innocent in all of its pastel pink glory.

“Am I…getting—”

“A strapping—yes.” Gerard whimpered and got into the position that Frank had trained him to assume for spankings. Frank threw another toy onto the bed but Gerard didn’t look at it. He was terrified of Frank’s belt. Nothing else fazed him much besides Frank’s belt and his sensitive piercing. “Don’t be so depressed,” Frank mumbled. “You can take it.”

“But…it hurts,” Gerard muttered.

“No shit,” Frank said absently, still digging through the drawer. The drawer’s contents were ever-expanding, but Gerard never saw him bring new toys home. It was like a bottomless pit of terror.

“Will it…be as bad as—”

“Before? No. It pisses me off when you get blood on all of my seats.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said quietly, nuzzling the fresh bed sheets. Since he’d gained more privileges in the house, he made sure that everything was clean and fresh for Frankie. He vowed to never let the sheets get into the disgusting state they had been in weeks before.

“You’re always sorry. One hundred—that’s all you get.”

“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard said, perking up slightly. One hundred was merciful for Frank—it would be brutal, but not unbearable.

Frank threw another toy onto the bed—this one hard and heavy and hitting Gerard painfully on the back of his head. When he whimpered, Frank turned to look at him. 

“Did that hit you?” Frank asked, going over to the bed and sitting down at Gerard’s side, rubbing the back of Gerard’s head, miraculously in the same spot that was hit. 

“Yeah,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Sorry.” Gerard shivered when he heard the belt slide across the bed. “After I’m done playing, you’re going to pick the order of the toys we play with. Okay?”

“Yes, Frankie,” Gerard mumbled. Frank stood up from the bed and Gerard closed his eyes tightly, listening to the belt slice the air threateningly as Frank made a few test swats before finally striking his first blow. 

Gerard muffled his cry, knowing Frank loved the thought that he was building his slave’s pain tolerance. He was able to hold back his screams until the thirtieth blow, but tears didn’t fall until to forty-seventh. 

One hundred swats from Frank was like a thousand of a normal person’s. He used too much force, like his arm would never tire. By one hundred, Gerard knew his skin had broken open, but he knew it was much less severe than the first beating Frank had given him. He wouldn’t complain and he wouldn’t fight…and maybe Frank would see how well behaved he was.

“Pick your toys,” Frank said, throwing his belt away and squeezing Gerard’s ass firmly. Gerard slowly sat up on his knees, sobbing but trying to contain it, and looked at the toys that had fallen. He wiped the spit off his mouth with the back of his wrist and glanced at Frank sadly. “ _Pick_ your toys.” Gerard looked down at the toys on the bed and sighed.

Immediately, he saw the order that Frank would want them used and picked them accordingly. First the small dildo, then the anal beads, then the large, steel plug. 

“Good boy,” Frank said. “You’re so smart.” Frank pressed a kiss onto his lips and Gerard pulled him into an embrace. “Here, put this in yourself.” Frank handed him the little pink dildo and Gerard was quick to slide it inside. After all of the torture he’d been through, his body was awkwardly loose.

Gerard continually thrust the small object inside of him, toying himself while Frank watched. He was getting used to this treatment. Frank was becoming less hands-on and more entertained viewer. Every now and then he’d bark out a command—find your prostate, go slower, go faster, stop hitting your prostate, touch yourself, cum… Gerard learned to cum on command. 

“Fuck it,” Frank said suddenly, destroying Gerard’s rhythm with the toy. “Give me that.” Gerard pulled his hands away and let Frank tear the toy from him. “Come here.” Frank crawled over top of him rapidly and undid his jeans. He started kissing him hard and then licked a stripe from Gerard’s chin up to his forehead. 

“Frankie?” Gerard said, confused. Frank growled—but it almost sounded more like a purr—and started sucking and biting Gerard’s neck and throat. It was so passionate—so unlike Frank.

“Hush, Baby,” Frank said, grabbing a condom off of the bedside table and tearing the foil with his teeth while grinding down against Gerard’s exposed groin. “How’s that ring treating you, Baby?” Frank asked, reaching down with one hand to put pressure on the little ball on the tip. Gerard squeaked and then shivered in pleasure. 

Frank stroked his own cock a few quick times before rolling on the condom and throwing Gerard’s legs heedlessly out of his way in order to force himself between them. Once he was in, he buried himself to the hilt and leaned down to place his mouth violently over Gerard’s.

Gerard tried to keep up with the kiss and tried to keep his hips rocking in synch with his keeper’s rapid thrusts. But it proved impossible—Frank was moving so fast and kissing so deeply with so much tongue. Gerard moaned deeply, unable to keep his composure as Frank hit his prostate repeatedly—for the first time. Frank never made their sex pleasurable…Gerard was almost certain that something was wrong.

But he couldn’t bring himself to complain or speak. Frank would start hurting him soon—he would yank the ring or start throwing punches. Surely…

Frank started gasping and moaning, much more desperately than normal. It was like he was getting something more than his normal disturbing pleasure—like he thought this…meant something. 

But maybe Gerard was just getting his hopes up…

Frank screamed when he came—screamed like Gerard had never heard him scream before. It was a noise of desperation and bliss. He pulled out slowly and pressed a hard kiss onto Gerard’s lips before getting off the bed. 

“Shower,” he said, gesturing exhaustedly from the bed to the bathroom door, staring at the ceiling with blissed-out eyes. Gerard got up slowly and limped past his master, afraid to even look at him as he made his way to the bathroom where he would shower quickly and sneak a quick jerk, hoping every second that Frank wouldn’t catch him or hear.

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank smirked at Gerard’s viciously shaking body and delivered one last crack of the belt on Gerard’s busted ass. Gerard hadn’t been whipped this hard before—if he thought his first beating with the belt had been bad, he was horribly mistaken. 

“Frankie,” Gerard cried loudly. Every bit of the skin on his back—from the base of his shoulder blades down to the backs of his knees—was cracked open, covered in welts, and turning purple with bruises. Every time Gerard tried to move, he screamed instead and laid still on the floor. “Ouch…” 

Gerard sobbed on the floor and shuddered violently. Frank kicked him, just to hear him scream again and laughed.

“Frankie—kill me,” Gerard whimpered into the hardwood. 

“Shut up!” Frank screamed. Gerard squeaked in fear and shivered. 

“Hurts so much, Frankie,” Gerard whispered. “What did I do?”

“Shut up!” Frank screamed again. Gerard sobbed and dragged his nails across the floor. 

Gerard hadn’t done anything. Not really. Frank just loved seeing him weak and broken. It was amazing how many times he could make Gerard feel important after proving him worthless again and again. 

“Ugly slut,” Frank seethed, kicking Gerard’s leg and walking in a circle around him on the bedroom floor. Gerard sniffed and shifted his head as if trying to nuzzle the floor. “Get up and take a shower.”

Gerard made a cry of pain and didn’t move. Just the thought of the hot water hitting his wounds was driving him mad. 

“Get up, or _I’ll_ bathe you.” Gerard sobbed and started attempting to stand. Getting bathed by Frank meant a scalding hot bath and a vicious scrubbing with a bath brush. After Gerard got to his feet, Frank was sickened by the blood that instantly began to pour from one of the hundreds of cuts on Gerard’s thighs. “Get in the bathroom!” Frank screamed. “You’re bleeding on everything! Damnit!” Gerard took two steps and then fell back down onto his knees. 

“Frank, I can’t!” Gerard cried out of fear. “Please—I’m so sorry!” Frank rolled his eyes and fisted his hand in Gerard’s tangled hair. “Ow—please!” Just as Frank got him to the edge of the bathroom, there was a loud knock on his door. 

“Who the fuck…” Frank released Gerard’s hair and moved to get a look at the clock on the wall. It was two in the afternoon on a Saturday. “Who is it?” Frank called, his voice instantly becoming friendly even though he’d been screaming at Gerard in a rage for about three hours.

“Frank?” The visitor called.

“Oh shit,” Frank hissed, looking down at Gerard who was staring at him in fear. “Shit,” he seethed. “Get in the bathroom,” he spat at Gerard. Gerard crawled quickly inside and Frank slammed the door on him. 

“Just a minute!” Frank called to the person at the door. He hurried to his bedroom and shut the door to hide the blood he didn’t have time to clean up. He checked his hands and shirt for any blood that might have sprayed on him while he’d been beating Gerard’s ass, but there was nothing. 

He hurried to the front door of his house and pulled it open slowly, trying to appear calm as he faced his visitor—his mother.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at him nervously and looking him over. “I’m sorry to just…show up out of the blue, but…”

“No, it’s fine,” Frank said quickly, feeling his skin prickle. She would find out about Gerard. If anyone could see through his lies and false smiling, it was his mother. “Come in, Mom,” Frank said, opening the door further to let her in.

It was okay if she saw Gerard or heard his stupid crying. She wouldn’t tell a soul and Frank knew it. She would know it was her fault. It was her fault for everything…

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard laid still on the bathroom floor, listening to Frank talk to his _mother_ in the next room. He worked very hard to keep his sobs quiet, but he couldn’t get them to stop. He hurt too much—his skin was searing hot and stinging, and he knew it would be weeks before the sensation would be bearable. 

“Frank, I know it’s been a while since I’ve come over—”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Frank said. Gerard listened to Frank’s calm voice and daydreamed that Frank would use that tone with him when he let him out of the bathroom. “You call all the time.” Gerard knew that was a lie—not once since he’d “moved in” with Frank had the woman ever called.

“That’s not true, Frankie,” she said quietly. Gerard almost couldn’t hear her. “It’s not that I’ve been trying to ignore you or forget about you—”

“I know, Mom,” Frank said. “You’ve got work and I’ve never been pleasant company, so…”

“No, Frank—no. That’s not true. You’re my son, you’re always good company.”

Gerard crawled slightly across the bathroom floor, whimpering softly and stretching out his wounds. 

“I’m worried about you, Sweetheart,” Frank’s mother said. “You don’t seem…like you feel well.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Frank said. 

“Were you busy? Did I interrupt something?”

“No. I was just…” Gerard groaned as his bleeding wounds started to create a little puddle of blood on one side of him. 

“I knew I should’ve called first, but I was afraid you wouldn’t answer.”

“I always answer your calls,” Frank said. It sounded like he’d lost his patience. 

“I was afraid you wouldn’t after our fight last time.”

“Mom…You’re my mom. I can’t just cut you out of my life.” To Gerard, it sounded like he wanted to say more. 

“I don’t know if that’s good or not,” his mother mumbled. “You know, I always try to decide if it would be better for you or not if I just stayed away and let you live your life without any more interference from me, but… You’re my son, I just…” Gerard heard the woman sigh deeply and tried to understand what was happening. “I just can’t let go.”

“I don’t even know what to say that,” Frank said, his voice getting louder. Gerard flinched and stared at the door in fear, as if expecting Frank to burst through the door and return to beating him. “Why do you have to start every phone call and every visit with this _same_ conversation? You won’t let me forget about what happened or get over it because you _always_ bring it up!”

“Oh, Frank—that’s not what I mean to do—”

“I know!” Frank shouted. “But that’s _exactly_ what you do!”

“I’m sorry, Frank,” his mother said, sounding sad. Gerard wanted to know what they were talking about, but knew better than to open his mouth and ask. If it was something traumatic in Frank’s past, there was no way that Frank would open up about anything like that to him. He was just a stupid, worthless, ugly whore. 

“I mean—I know you’re guilty. I know you _feel_ guilty, and know you’re sorry about it. We’ve agreed on this—but I’m still pissed off about it! If you want to visit me or talk to me on the phone, why not just start by asking how my day is, huh? Instead of asking how I’m coming along since you _let_ those things happen to me? You just want to torture me!”

“No, Frankie!” His mother called. “No—I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to see you! I miss you and I want to fix what I did and I don’t know how.”

“You can’t!” Frank screamed. “You _can’t_ fix it! Let it go! Stop bringing it up!”

“Where are you going?”

“To the fucking bathroom!” Frank shouted. Gerard whimpered and backed farther from door.

“Frank…” His mother called softly. 

The bathroom door burst open and Frank slammed it as soon as he stepped in.

“What the hell are you looking at?” Frank seethed. Gerard whimpered and lowered his head back down onto the floor. “You like eavesdropping, bitch?” Frank hissed quietly.

“No, Frankie,” Gerard whispered. 

“Bet you do,” Frank barked. “Bet you’re all curious—wanting to know all about me and what makes me tick. Well it’s none of your fucking business—and just wait until she leaves, slut. Because I’m going to tear the shit out of you. You die tonight, bitch,” Frank hissed. “You’re dead tonight.”

Frank left the bathroom and slammed the door without even throwing a kick or punch. Gerard laid still in terror, shivering and feeling all of his wounds sting. He wanted to curl up and hide, but there was nowhere for him to go.

“Frank, I don’t want to fight,” his mother said quietly. “I just want to see you—you’re my only child. You’re my whole world, and I’m just so afraid that you’ll cut me out.”

“Maybe I want to cut you out!” Frank screamed, all of his composure gone. “You never cared about me! You wouldn’t believe me! I told you and I told you and _begged_ you to believe me and you cut _me_ out! I can never forgive you! It’s your fault! Why act like you care now when you didn’t before? Because you don’t have to pick up the pieces now? Because you don’t have to take care of me anymore so now it’s okay to let yourself realize what happened? Now I’m out of your house so you don’t have to deal with it every day—only have to remember when it’s convenient for you?!”

“Frankie—please! I tried everything when I found out. I got you in counseling and—”

“Bullshit!” Frank screamed. “That was bullshit! It didn’t help me and I told you that! Then when the kids found out I had to go there—Goddamnit, Mom! I was tormented for years! You’re _lucky_ I didn’t do the shooting like I spent three years planning! You’re _lucky!_ Because I would’ve shot you, too!”

“Oh, Frank,” his mother cried. “This isn’t like you-- _that_ wasn’t like you. You’re a good boy.”

“Oh, really?” Frank snapped sarcastically. “Then tell me why you beat me _every day_ on the word of some sick jack ass!”

“Frankie, I thought—”

“You trusted _him_ over _me!_ A stranger over your own son! Tell me why I should forgive you!” Frank screamed. Gerard could feel Frank’s pain in his voice and bit his lip softly. Whatever happened to Frank must have been horrifying…

Gerard felt he had a damned good idea of what that torture was. Someone hurt him—someone his mother trusted—and when he told her about it, she thought he was lying and punished him with a beating. 

Gerard felt he could relate to that a little bit.

“Frank—I was stupid, and I’m sorry! I don’t know how to make you feel better.”

“My _boyfriend_ makes me feel better!” Frank screamed. “And it’s because I can put his fucking head through the wall and he won’t even strike back!”

“You _hit_ your boyfriend?” Frank’s mother said in utter surprise. Gerard stared at the door and swallowed hard. Boyfriend? Frank called him his boyfriend?...Well, he guessed he couldn’t tell his mother he had kidnapped someone and held him hostage.

“I beat the _shit_ out of him!”

“Why, Frank?” His mother asked. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I can!” Frank shouted. “Why not?”

“Frank, it’s not like you. You’re not violent—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Frank screamed. “You _made_ me this way! It’s your fault I have to do this!”

“Do what, Frank?” His mother asked, sounding like her own anger was taking over. “Beat another person? All I ever did was—”

“Hit me!” Frank shouted. “With a belt Dad left behind! Because some guy told you I misbehaved! He _lied!_ I did nothing! He hurt me, you came home and _you_ hurt me! I had no one to trust!” Gerard made a sad sound, knowing Frank had to have learned his cruelty from someone, but not expecting it to be his mother. But there had to be more…abuse caused psychological damage, but with Frank’s level of hostility Gerard suspected a spanking wasn’t the cause.

“Frankie!”

“Raped!” Frank screamed. Gerard opened his mouth in a small gape and stared at the bathroom door. Even if Frank was a cruel keeper, Gerard didn’t like the idea of someone hurting him so badly. “You let me get raped!”

“Frank, I said I was sorry!”

“Sorry doesn’t fix it! Sorry won’t fix what I did to my boyfriend before you got here, now will it!?” 

“What you did to your…Frank?”

“In the bathroom…” Frank said. Gerard whimpered when he heard someone get up off the couch and come towards his hiding place. Why was he telling his mother this? 

To show her that he was a monster? To show her what she’d made him become?

Gerard whimpered and looked around for a towel he could quickly use to cover himself. Gasping in pain, Gerard grabbed a towel off of the rack and threw it over himself so he wouldn’t be naked when he was forced to meet Frank’s mom. 

The bathroom door slid open and Gerard stared up at the woman who covered her mouth as soon as she caught sight of him. Frank appeared behind her and Gerard stared at him and whimpered, not sure how to react.

“Frank…” His mother said quietly. 

“This is my boyfriend.”

“That’s…he looks like the guy from the television.”

“‘Local man missing after house party’,” Frank quoted. 

“Frank!” His mother exclaimed, backing away from Gerard. “You…I didn’t make you this way!”

“No, my babysitter did,” Frank said. “I think you should go home, Mom. Gerard and I need some time alone.”

“Don’t hurt him, Frank,” his mother said, speaking desperately on Gerard’s behalf. Gerard stared at her and then looked back at Frank. He could tell by the shadows in his eyes that Frank wasn’t going to kill him like he’d said. Frank wasn’t a killer, he was a victim. He needed love, and if Gerard showed him love he was sure he could get Frank to recover from his trauma. “You don’t need to hurt him, Frank—he’s…he’s scared.”

“He should be,” Frank said, staring at Gerard like he could see through his soul. 

“Frank, you’re not going to hurt him.”

“I’m not?” Frank said, sounding surprised. “I thought I already did.” Frank pushed past his mother and stormed into the room. Gerard shied away from his hand, but couldn’t escape. Frank fisted a hand in his hair and tore his towel away. With one strong shove, Frank had Gerard lying face-down on the floor with his freshly beaten flesh bleeding and on display.

“Oh my God, Frank!” His mother gasped. “What have you done to him!?” The woman took a step towards him and Gerard knew Frank would lash out. Immediately, Frank kicked him in the side and the woman stopped. “Frank.”

“You didn’t even press charges on him,” Frank said, kicking Gerard again. The blow was harder and Gerard whimpered.

“Frank…”

“After everything he did to me,” Frank said, stomping on one of Gerard’s hands. Gerard shrieked and pulled the hand to his chest against the floor. 

“Frank!” His mother cried.

“And you know what?” Frank asked, kneeling down beside Gerard and running his hand from the back of Gerard’s head, down his bleeding back all of the way to his bloody thighs. 

“God, Frank…this isn’t who you are!”

“He won’t press charges on me either. No matter what I do, my boyfriend will love me.” Frank’s mother closed her eyes and shook her head. “Gonna call the cops, Mommy?” Frank said. “Gonna turn me in?”

“No,” she said. “But I’m leaving. I did _not_ raise you to become like this.” Gerard turned his head to see Frank’s face. Frank was staring at her emptily, as if she were lying to his face. Like he thought she wanted him to go insane.

Gerard watched the woman just walk away and close the door to the house behind her. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Frank said, petting Gerard’s hair softly. “She did the same thing to me.”

“I don’t blame you for being mad, Frankie,” Gerard murmured, letting Frank help him to his feet and make him step into the shower.

“Shut up,” Frank muttered, turning on the water. “Clean off and tell me when you’re done so I can put the fucking bandages on you.”

“Yes, Frank,” Gerard answered. Frank yanked the shower curtain closed and left after cleaning up the blood off of the bathroom floor himself.

( ) ( ) ( )

“He was my babysitter in elementary school,” Frank said. Gerard was lying with his head on his chest while Frank slowly petted his hair. He whimpered quietly when Frank’s hand ran over the bruises and cuts on his lower back. 

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” Gerard whispered. 

“When Mom and I moved in down the street he was the guy to welcome us to the neighborhood. It should’ve made her nervous—no one in that neighborhood talked to anyone else. But she thought he was the greatest thing since God.” Gerard sighed and nuzzled Frank’s chin. He was here to comfort Frank. That was why Frank had taken him…to find someone to comfort him. Someone who could relate to the pain he’d been subjected to… “She’d only known him three weeks before she had him over for dinners and shit—looking back, I think they were fucking.”

Gerard sighed again and Frank moved his arms to embrace him around his shoulders.

“It didn’t start as much. You have to think, I was in…maybe third grade when it started.”

“He hurt you, Frankie?” Gerard said, kissing Frank under his chin and flinching when Frank jerked away. 

“First he just kept touching me. I didn’t tell my mom anything because I didn’t think much of it. I just thought ‘wow, this is weird.’ Then when he made me touch him I didn’t tell because…” Frank just froze and Gerard was afraid to even nuzzle him in fear of getting punched or slapped. “Because I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t explain it to her so I didn’t even try. Then when I was in fifth grade, he got bolder. He moved so slowly…I got used to it. I thought it was fucking normal.”

“Poor, Frankie,” Gerard whispered. He hated the thought of anyone hurting another person, but detested the thought of an adult taking advantage of a child even more.

“The first time he _fingered_ me, I ran to my mom and cried and she…didn’t understand. I didn’t know what happened to me, so all I could say was that he hurt me. That he hurt my butt. So she thought I did something wrong and he spanked me. And her rule was that if the spanked me, she would too.” Gerard glanced up at Frank’s face and saw the pain and tension there. Frank swallowed hard and started petting Gerard’s hair again. “So every time he’d rape me, he would tell my mom he had to punish me so I’d get beaten by her.”

“Frankie…” Gerard mumbled, nuzzling Frank’s chest and giving him a gentle, unthreatening squeeze of a hug.

“In sixth grade they started sex ed in Health class. That’s when I figured it out… It took me three months to figure out how to tell her, and when I finally got up the nerve to do it she said I was a liar. I begged her to believe me, but she wouldn’t. I _really_ think they were fucking. If she was fucking him, I guess I could understand why she didn’t think he was fucking me. But I _cried_ to her—I _begged_ and _begged_ for hours. I told her everything—I told her exactly what he did and she told me I was a liar.”

“Your…dad, Frank?” Gerard mumbled, timidly asking where that man was.

“Dad? I couldn’t tell Dad.” Gerard made a soft sound and laid on Frank’s chest in silence for nearly half an hour. “Wouldn’t you know, my babysitter found out what I told my mom and took it out on me for the next two years. I never told my mom anything after that first time and the beatings stopped by the time I reached middle school. Eventually, I didn’t need a babysitter anymore and the guy quit visiting, and it just…stopped.”

“I love you, Frankie,” Gerard whispered. Frank kept stroking his hair and Gerard sighed.

“Told her again in high school,” Frank said. “Sophomore year—said that I forgave her for not believing me back then, but she just got _pissed._ She screamed at me for over an hour about how I couldn’t go around accusing people of rape when I _knew_ it didn’t happen. We fought and I tried so hard to explain it to her—I spelled it out for her—but she slapped me and told me to get lost. Eventually, she finally asked if it was true and I told her… Then she put me in counseling. My last two years of high school, I hardly said two words to her each day.”

“How did she not know?” Gerard said, a judgment in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Frank said, holding Gerard tight and nuzzling the top of his head. “Must’ve thought the cum in the sheets was mine.” Gerard squeaked in pain and fear when Frank held onto him and rolled them over so Gerard was beneath him. “But who gives a shit? You’re still mine.” Gerard writhed as the weight was put on his bandaged cuts and wounds, but didn’t make a sound of protest as Frank worked his way between his legs. 

Frank grabbed the condom and rolled it on quickly, only grunting softly when he pressed inside. Gerard opened his legs as far as he could for Frank and ran his fingers through his lover’s hair. For as angry as Frank was, he was being so gentle. He wasn’t hitting Gerard’s prostate, but he wasn’t ripping him apart either.

His thrusting was hard, but nothing unnecessarily brutal—and they kissed multiple times.

“Frankie?” Gerard called out when Frank started moaning and gasping.

“What?” Frank groaned before gasping shrilly and thrusting faster.

“Am I really—am I really your boyfriend?” Gerard moaned, squirming so Frank could move more freely. 

“Yeah, Baby,” Frank gasped. Gerard laid still and stared at Frank’s face—his eyes closed and mouth hanging open. Gerard blinked and smiled softly, despite the pain tearing through his battered flesh. 

It was such a strange feeling that Gerard had building in his chest and it made him start to cry. Frank was his _kidnapper,_ his torturer and tormentor. He was scared of Frank—Frank was his bringer of pain. But he could feel how much he loved Frank and how much he pitied him and worried for him. And as strange as it was, he almost felt glad that someone on Earth like Frank who wanted him so badly that he was willing to kidnap him just to keep him and to have him all to himself. 

“Why are you crying?” Frank asked, still working toward his climax. Gerard shook his head and spread his legs further. “Why are you crying?” Frank repeated, grabbing Gerard’s knees and thrust into him deeper. 

“Just—I’m your boyfriend,” Gerard sobbed. Frank thrust into him a little quicker, and came with a choked gasp.

“Get over it,” Frank hissed, taking off the condom and tossing it away. 

“I’m happy,” Gerard cried. “You’re my boyfriend,” he sobbed, reaching up and trying to get a hold of Frank in order to get a hug. Instead, he got slapped.

“No, you’re my boyfriend. I’m your kidnapper. Get it fucking right.” 

“Okay, Frankie,” Gerard cried, holding his cheek and sniffing softly. 

“I’m still gonna kill you,” Frank said, sighing and laying down beside Gerard. 

Gerard was pretty sure that was a lie…

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank watched Gerard thrashing, his wrists bound to the headboard and a ball gag firmly in place in his mouth. Frank had just gotten his little slave’s right nipple pierced and was moving on to his left. Gerard couldn’t handle it—and it was fun watching him squirm.

Gerard shrieked as Frank got the device into place over his left nipple and then in two quick motions had the needle in, out, and the ring in place. He’d chosen posts for these piercings unlike the ring he’d used on his slave’s worthless cock. 

Gerard cried hard and ceased thrashing.

“Was that so bad?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded quickly and Frank rolled his eyes. Frank pulled the gag out of his mouth and Gerard cried out and let his head loll to one side. “Stop that,” Frank said. “These will heal a lot faster, and you’ll like them.”

“Needles!” Gerard screamed. Frank rolled his eyes and looked at the new piercings on his slave’s chest. 

“Be glad I haven’t gotten you a tattoo!” Gerard instantly went quiet and stopped thrashing. “Yeah—I bet you like the thought of that even less. So you should be thanking me.”

“Thank you, Frankie,” Gerard murmured. 

“Mikey’s coming over tonight to watch this new movie he and Ray won’t shut up about. And how are you going to behave?”

“Quiet,” Gerard whispered.

“So stay on the bed and sleep. No nightmares.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Gerard whimpered.

“Good boyfriend,” Frank said, smirking and leaning down to push a kiss on Gerard’s spit-coated lips. Gerard stared at him with wet, bloodshot eyes that made Frank want to bite him…just lean down and take a bite out of his throat.

All he could manage before Gerard started to screech in discomfort was a deep purple hickey with five tooth marks.

“Frankie,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Stop,” Frank commanded, pulling on Gerard’s dick ring.

“Ow!” Gerard cried out, squirming and tugging at his wrist restraints.

“Stop,” Frank said again. Gerard moaned and nuzzled the pillow beneath his head. “Compared to what I could have done, this was nothing.”

“Frank,” Gerard said, sighing as if he were tired. 

“What?” The less Frank beat him, the more comfortable Gerard became around him. It was a never ending cycle. Beating to fear, cuddling to love, love to affection, affection became Frank’s annoyance which led to a beating.

“What are we going to do?” Gerard asked, tugging lightly at his restraints.

“About what?” Frank asked again.

“Our…relationship? Frankie…we can’t just stay this way forever.”

“I’m going to kill you—that takes care of it,” Frank said.

“You’re not going to kill me.” Frank glared at him and Gerard immediately shrank down against the mattress. It was aggravating…because Frank knew it was true. He couldn’t kill the stupid skank. He loved him. He loved controlling him and being able to beat him without losing his affection.

“Say that again and see what happens,” Frank muttered. 

He hated that he told Gerard his secret. Hated how Gerard now had power over him. He vowed never to tell, but broke down and told his prisoner. His thought had been ‘who would Gerard tell?’, but now he was facing the prospect of actually having to let him go. He couldn’t keep him forever and he was _tired_ of beating him. He was running out of tortures and he was tired of seeing him covered in bruises and blood. He threw out his shoulder whipping Gerard’s ass two weeks ago, and didn’t want to ever do it again.

And if he couldn’t beat Gerard, how was he going to keep him trapped?

Frank sighed softly and sat at the edge of his bed. He couldn’t let Gerard run away, so he was going to have to let him go. And then what? Await the cops every day? Go back to being all alone after having Gerard in his presence for over six months? Kidnap some other cute, pathetic little whore?

He didn’t think anyone could beat Gerard in looks and good behavior.

He contemplated getting a real boyfriend, but figured it wouldn’t happen. It was hard for an abuser to keep a real relationship going.

“Frank?”

“Stop bugging me,” Frank hissed. Gerard hesitated again.

“Frank?”

“What!?” Frank snapped. 

“Do you love me?”

“Shut up, Gerard,” Frank answered.

“So…no?” Gerard said. Frank growled and stood up from the bed. “Frank?”

“What!?” Frank screamed. “What do you want!?”

“Can you untie me?” Gerard stared at him innocently and Frank cocked back his fist and punched him in the eye. Gerard called out in pain and tugged at the cord binding his hands.

“I said shut up!” Frank shouted. “So listen to me! Or do you want me to pierce something else!?” Gerard shuddered violently and finally shut his mouth. “You need to shut up when I tell you to. Six months ago, if I told you to shut up you’d shut up.”

“Six months ago you were meaner.”

“Shut up!” Frank screamed, grabbing his belt off the floor and slashing it across Gerard’s face. “You want beat again?”

“No,” Gerard whimpered. 

“Then behave! I’m lenient on you for once and you take advantage of it—see if I’m ever nice to you again.” Gerard stared at him through his pain and Frank growled when he saw what was in those eyes.

Gerard pitied him. Gerard trusted him. Gerard knew Frank wasn’t going to kill him.

( ) ( ) ( )

“Frank, I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay?” Mikey said, getting off of Frank’s couch where they were sitting with Ray playing video games. Well, Ray and Frank were playing, Mikey didn’t really feel up to playing anything. 

He knew he was slipping into a depression, but he couldn’t get himself to reach out and break his fall. It didn’t seem to matter—to him, his depression and anguish wasn’t payment enough for what he’d let happen to his brother.

How could be so cruel? Gerard was lonely and depressed, where did he get off embarrassing him at parties? The one place he should’ve felt comfortable and able to open up and meet new people, Mikey ruined for him by warning everyone against him.

“Kay,” Frank answered absently when Mikey walked out of the room. The word was quickly followed by a scream of frustration from Ray who’d lost.

“Start again?” Ray asked.

“Hell yeah,” Frank spat, restarting the game. 

Mikey reached the bathroom, but just as he opened the door he heard a sound come from Frank’s bedroom. At first, Mikey was confused, but then he realized it was probably a dog that Frank was keeping without his landlord’s knowledge. 

He rolled his eyes and entered the bathroom, thinking about how Frank always went back into that bedroom every now and then when they came over—as if checking up on something.

When Mikey left the bathroom, he heard another sound from the bedroom that piqued his interest further. He didn’t feel like playing video games, and although he’d promised Frank he wouldn’t spoil his secret by going into the bedroom, playing with a lonely, caged up dog sounded better.

Taking a glance at the couch where Ray and Frank were still fixated on the video game, Mikey slid over to Frank’s bedroom door silently. He looked back at the couch, Ray and Frank still not watching, and then slowly turned the knob.

He stole another quick glance at Frank on the couch and then pushed the door open slowly. Mikey gasped and almost slammed the door closed again when he looked inside the room. The first thing he noticed was that there was a person—not a dog—lying on Frank’s bed with its back to the door. 

Frank certainly did have something to hide if he had a girlfriend living with him that he didn’t want anyone to know about. Mikey felt a nervousness grip him as he looked back at Frank and Ray on the couch, thinking of how close to an argument he’d just come. 

He’d almost walked in on Frank’s half-naked girlfriend—her back was completely bare, what wasn’t covered by the bed sheets at least. Laying in Frank’s bed asleep while he had guests…all alone. 

Mikey was about to return to the living room when the questions started mounting rapidly in his brain.

Why would Frank hide his girlfriend? Why would she be so quiet and invisible while Frank had guests? Why did she have such masculine shoulders…? 

Against his better judgment, Mikey pushed the bedroom door open and looked over the person’s body again. 

The more Mikey stared at this person, the more he realized why Frank was hiding it. There was no doubt that it was a man. Broad shoulders, wide back…short and wavy black hair. 

Frank was gay? But he’d never shown interest in guys before. At all of the parties he hit on girls and took girls home…

Suddenly acknowledging that he was acting a creep, spying on this poor man, Mikey pulled the door closed again.

Mikey returned to the living room and sank down on the couch. He was unable to keep himself from fixing Frank with a curious stare as he tried to figure him out.

All of those parties where he clung to women and made a fool of himself—was that all just for show? Why would he think he had to hide who he was around his friends? He knew they weren’t homophobic.

“Quit starin’ at me,” Frank said, not taking his eyes off of the screen. “It’s weirding me out.” Mikey looked away and locked his eyes on the screen.

Mikey tried to remember if he’d ever seen Frank with any guys… And the only guy he remembered Frank taking any interest in meeting was Gerard.

He’d never asked to meet him, but when he found out that Gerard was at the party he kept asking questions. Like if he was shy…and what car he drove.

Mikey paused and felt something strange drop into the pit of his stomach, his skin prickling and the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

How many parties had he gone to with Frank where some guy got found beaten up and unconscious in the backseat of his own car the next morning? And Gerard…

Mikey felt his breathing speed up and he tried to chase away the overwhelming paranoia that was bubbling up inside of him. He’d known Frank for years—he wasn’t a violent kidnapper. He wasn’t a murderer. 

Frank asked what car Gerard drove… Then Frank left the party. Then Gerard left and no one ever saw him again.

And it was _only_ the parties that he went to with Frank that guys were found in the backseats of their cars beaten up and refusing to say a word about what happened. No ‘I was mugged,’ no ‘some douchebag’s mad because I danced with his girl,’ just nothing. 

And Frank asked what kind of car Gerard drove…

And there was a man in Frank’s bed—and he’d been guarding that room since the disappearance. 

Mikey felt like he was about to have a panic attack. His heart was racing and he couldn’t slow his breathing.

“Mikey?” Frank said, calling Mikey’s attention away from his thoughts and the screen. “You…okay?”

And Frank didn’t go to parties anymore.

And Frank asked what kind of car Gerard drove…and the guy in the bedroom had hair just like Gerard’s.

“Mikey?” Ray asked. Mikey shook his head quickly and stood up from the couch. He had to know—he had to know.

The last person Gerard talked to was Frank…and Frank asked what car he drove with a bullshit explanation. 

“What’s the matter?” Frank asked, pausing the game and tossing his controller aside.

“I need the bathroom,” Mikey said, knowing he was about to make a fool of himself, but having to know. Wanting his torture to end.

Mikey got up from the couch and stumbled towards the bathroom.

“Mikey?—Mikey, that’s not my bathroom!” Frank leapt off of the couch as soon as he realized Mikey was going into his bedroom.

He threw the door open hard so that it slammed against the wall, making the man on the bed instinctively turn to see who was coming in. Mikey felt his stomach twist into a too-tight knot and tried to scream but no sound came out.

What was this!? What was happening!?

“Gerard!” He tried to scream, still making no sound that he could hear. 

Why was Gerard in Frank’s bed? Why did he have a black eye and split lip? What the hell were spikes of metal doing in his chest? Why was there a bite mark on his throat? Why were there hickeys? Why were his wrists bruised and red?

“What the hell, Frank!” Mikey screamed, turning to the man and preparing to punch him. 

“Mikey!” Gerard called, pulling sheets up and around himself on the bed. “It’s—Mikey it’s not what it looks like!”

And then Ray burst into the narrow corridor as well to see what was going on.

“Then what the hell is it!?” Mikey screamed. He didn’t know whether to worry for Gerard or feel betrayed. What was this? What the hell was this?

“I’m—I…” Gerard was stammering, looking from Mikey to Frank and then back. 

“Gerard!” Mikey screamed. 

“Frankie—he’s…Frank’s my—” Mikey watched as Gerard’s eyes grew wide and his whole body flinched, cutting off his own sentence with his fear. “I mean—I…I’m—I’m Frank’s boyfriend.”

“Gerard,” Mikey said, staring at his brother and taking in his cuts and bruises and wondering where else they were. “You’re not even gay! You had a girlfriend for like…two years!”

“Mikey,” Frank said, grabbing Mikey’s arm. Mikey shoved him away and hesitated for only a moment before attacking. 

Men turned up beaten in their cars after parties—now Gerard was in Frank’s bed with a bruised face and piercings on his chest when he had a massive fear of needles? Frank stole him—Frank did this. Frank lied and said he didn’t know where Gerard was—Gerard had screamed in pain when he’d been on the phone. Moaned in agony and _screamed._

“I’ll fucking kill you!” Mikey screamed, delivering punch after punch to Frank’s face. “All this time!” He shouted. “You said you didn’t know! You did this to him!” And Frank kept trying to explain it even though Mikey was trying hard to break all of the bones in his face while Ray tried to pull him off. “You were my best friend!” Mikey screamed.

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard screamed in fear and confusion as he watched his brother beat his boyfriend and kidnapper’s face. He wanted to protect Frank—he wanted to explain that this wasn’t Frank’s fault.

“Mikey, stop!” Gerard screamed, falling off the bed and trying to keep the blankets wound around himself so that Mikey wouldn’t see the worst of his wounds. “Mikey, please! It’s not what it looks like! Stop it!” He managed to get himself to Mikey’s side, Frank having fallen to the ground with Mikey on top of him punching him in face repeatedly. “Mikey, please! I’m his boyfriend—stop!”

Gerard grabbed Mikey’s fist and held it back. Mikey snarled at him as Ray pulled him off of Frank who curled into a ball that was actually weeping in pain. Gerard felt so bad for him.

“Frankie,” Gerard murmured softly, leaning over Frank’s body and gently stroking his cheek. “Frankie, are you okay?” Frank whimpered softly and rolled over away from Gerard’s touch. “Frankie?” Gerard pressed.

“Gerard,” Mikey said softly. He sounded betrayed, but how could he expect Gerard to side with him after he’d beaten his boyfriend in the face?

“Frank, are you okay?” Gerard asked again, running his fingers through Frank’s hair.

“Get out, Gerard,” Frank groaned, pulling away from Gerard’s touch.

“No—no, Frankie,” Gerard said quietly, grabbing Frank’s shoulder gently.

“Gerard—your back!” Mikey screamed. 

“It’s fine,” Gerard mumbled, petting Frank’s hair more. “Frankie—are you okay?”

“Get out, Gerard!” Frank screamed, shoving Gerard away so hard that he fell backwards. Mikey lunged at Frank again, but Ray held him back. 

“Frankie,” Gerard murmured. 

“Get lost!” Frank screamed, tears still leaking from his eyes. “All of you!—Get out!” Frank got to his feet slowly, covering his face with one hand and using the other balance him against the wall. 

“Frankie,” Gerard said again.

“Gerard—what is going on?” Mikey called out in desperation. “What the hell is this!?”

“Frank needs me,” Gerard called, getting up stiffly and holding the blankets around himself even though his markings from his beating had already been seen. 

“Did you plan this?” Mikey asked. “Did you _plan_ to just pretend to disappear and worry me _sick!?_ ”

“I…” Gerard stared at Mikey and put his arms around Frank even though Frank kept shoving him away. “Mikey…he needs me. I didn’t mean to make you worry.” He wanted to go away with Mikey, to run and leave his torture and pain behind, but Frank couldn’t be alone. He was hurt and haunted by his own past. Frank needed someone to give him comfort…to help him overcome his abuse.

“What do you mean he needs you!?” Mikey screamed. “What _is_ this!? Did you just hook up!? Did you want to make me worry? Did you two plan this!?”

“No, Mikey,” Gerard said, not wanting to throw Frank under the bus, but not wanting to lie and subject himself to Mikey’s anger. He didn’t want Mikey mad at him—Mikey was the type that would cut a person out of his life because he felt betrayed. 

“Then what’s going on!?”

“You never appreciated your fucking brother, Mikey,” Frank seethed, shoving Gerard’s hands away and leaning against the wall, his face bleeding badly. “So I took him.” 

“Took him?” Mikey asked. 

“Got in his stupid car—fucking idiot left it unlocked.” Gerard whimpered, used to the verbal abuse but still feeling a sting. “Laid in the back, waited for him…he didn’t see me, he drove a little bit, I pretended to be drunk and that I passed out in his car. Dumbass fell for it.”

“Hey!” Mikey spat. “You don’t talk about my brother like—”

“Like you do?” Frank hissed. “You call him a drunk, you call him an addict, you call him crybaby—a freak. You’re worse to him than I ever could be.” Mikey fought to get away from Ray, but Ray held him fast, staring at Frank like he was seeing him in an entirely new light. “Gerard was so sweet to me, Mikey—he took me home and helped me inside because I couldn’t walk very well you know, ‘cause I was drunk.”

“You fucking asshole!” Mikey screamed. “What did you do to him!? Why would you do this!?”

“Why not!?” Frank screamed. “Why wouldn’t I? Beat him up, got him in bed—now he’s mine! He _loves_ me! He’s mine!”

“He’s _brainwashed!_ ” Mikey spat. “You were my best friend, Frank! Why did you do this? If you wanted to meet Gerard—”

“ _Meet_ Gerard?” Frank said, looking at Gerard who wanted to pull him into a protective hug but knew better. “I didn’t want to meet him—I wanted to kill him!”

“Why?” Mikey cried. “What did he ever do to you?”

“Nothing!” Frank spat. “So get him out of my house! Get out!”

“Frankie,” Gerard tried. “Please, just calm down. It’ll be okay.”

“No it’s not!” Mikey shouted. “I’m calling the fucking cops!”

“No, you’re not!” Gerard screamed. “You’re not hurting Frank!”

“Why?” Mikey called. “Why not? What did he do to you to get you like this? Rape you?”

“Shut up!” Gerard screamed. 

“Why are you protecting your rapist!?”

“Just shut up, Mikey!” Gerard cried. “You never cared before!”

“How can you say that!?” Mikey boomed. “I’ve been tearing this city apart looking for you! I was worried sick!”

“Get the fuck out,” Frank moaned, pushing past Gerard and stumbling into his bedroom. “Gerard, get your fucking clothes and get out.”

“No,” Gerard said, following him. Mikey grabbed his wrist but Gerard shook it away.

“Your wrists are _bleeding!_ ” Mikey cried. “He tied you up! You know he hurts you, Gerard!” Gerard looked at him and shook his head. Frank’s physical beatings didn’t hurt half as much as knowing that his little brother was openly ashamed of him. No lashing with a belt equaled the agony of entering a party where everyone whispered to one another that he was Mikey’s strange and awkward older brother—the freak.

“Go home, Mikey,” Gerard said. “I’ll…come by later maybe.”

“You’ll have to!” Mikey shouted. “You lost your apartment—all your shit’s at my house now!” Gerard couldn’t decide if Mikey’s anger was misdirected or not. “I had to go through everything when I packed it! I found all of your suicide notes! Do you know what that was like?”

“They’re your fault!” Gerard shrieked. “You hate me! What was I supposed to do!? I was alone! You never cared before!”

“How can you say that?” Mikey cried, tears welling up in his eyes and making Gerard feel guilty. “I love you—you’re my brother!”

“And Frank’s my lover!” Gerard argued. “He needs me. So go home. I’ll be over later.”

“Get out now, Gerard,” Frank seethed.

“I’m not leaving you with him!” Mikey screamed. “He’ll kill you!”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll kill him,” Frank hissed. “Get out of my house!” He screamed the way he only did when his temper exploded. 

“Mikey—let’s go,” Ray said quickly. “We’ll make a deal—if Gerard’s not back by midnight, we’ll call the cops.”

“I’m not leaving Frank!” Gerard cried. “He’s good to me!”

“Get the fuck out!” Frank screamed, taking Gerard off guard when he threw a punch that caught him in the face. Gerard fell back onto the floor, gripping his cheek and fighting back the tears that rushed him.

“Don’t touch him!” Mikey shouted, fighting against Ray again. “I’ll call the fucking cops, you asshole! I thought you were my friend! I’ll get you for this!”

“Mikey—let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving him!” Gerard felt like the world had turned into a whirlpool around him, everything spinning out of control and crushing down on him. He wanted away from Frank’s tortures—his needles and beatings—but he felt so bad for Frank…He needed love and a helping hand, not a jail cell. 

“Gerard if you don’t get your _fucking_ clothes on, and if you don’t get the _fuck_ out of my house, I’m gonna rip those _fucking_ piercings right out of your flesh,” Frank hissed. Mikey snarled something but Gerard just stared at Frank sadly. “Get out!”

“Frankie, I’m not leaving—I don’t care,” Gerard said. Frank snarled and went over to his dresser. At first, Gerard was afraid that he’d bring out one of their toys, embarrassed that Mikey might see, but instead Frank threw his jeans at him. The one’s he’d been wearing at the party. 

“Get out,” Frank seethed.

“No,” Gerard argued, pulling the blankets tighter around his body and glancing at Mikey and Ray. If they thought he was a freak before, what must they think of him now? Now that he was a victim protecting his attacker?

Frank sighed and sank down onto the floor, his head in his hands. 

“Take him away,” Frank groaned. “Just go away.” He sounded like he had returned to crying and Gerard bit his lip in anxiety—feeling so bad for him. 

Gerard whimpered as Mikey grabbed him and pulled him up from the floor. Gerard held tight to his blankets and stared at Frank’s hunched over form as his brother and Ray pulled him out of the house. 

It wouldn’t be the last time he was here—it wouldn’t. He loved Frank, he had to see him more. He needed him. He loved him so much. 

Mikey couldn’t keep them apart. He wouldn’t allow it. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Frank lay in his bed staring at his covered window and not moving any more than it took to breathe. Occasionally, he would nuzzle a little red spot on his pillow—blood from Gerard’s face. 

He’d called his job and told them he had to leave the state for a funeral and they accepted his time off. He wouldn’t be able to pay his rent on time because he wouldn’t get a paycheck, but he didn’t care.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He was all alone again, and without Gerard’s presence he had to focus on the horror that he’d done.

Kidnapping…torturing…that wasn’t who he was. Maybe an assault in the back of someone’s car, but those guys were drunks and jerks who were asking for it. Gerard had just been innocent and helpless—depressed and sad. He didn’t deserve it…

Frank guessed he could be thankful that Gerard didn’t have him arrested. Every day Frank listened for the sirens coming to his home, but they never arrived. Gerard was keeping the ordeal a secret—the news didn’t care to report that he’d come back home. 

Frank made a sad sound and pulled the sheet which covered the mattress up to his face, nuzzling more blood stains and breathing in the fading scent of Gerard’s sweat and body.

In one moment of sheer lunacy, he’d ruined his entire life. He had no friends—Mikey wouldn’t consider talking to him again, and Ray wouldn’t answer his phone calls. Frank didn’t think he would, but he’d wanted to explain to someone why he’d done what he had. 

He thought there might have been a chance that Ray would listen. He couldn’t explain away what he’d done, but he wanted his friend to know that he wasn’t a complete maniac.

But he couldn’t talk to Ray, and he couldn’t find Gerard…It really felt like his life was over. 

( ) ( ) ( )

Gerard stared at his reflection in the mirror, his tight jeans, his heavy sweater, his eyeliner, his black boots…he liked what he saw. Mikey didn’t want him to go to the party tonight, but Gerard was going. He wanted to get out of his apartment for a little while after working so hard to secure his job again and save up funds to spend on something other than over-due bills and food. 

He set up his apartment nicely, but not because he planned to bring some cute girl home. There were more reasons to keep a nice home than seduction.

Mikey was going to the party to work as Gerard’s bodyguard, and Ray was there to keep Mikey from kill anyone.

Gerard drove his own car to the house, and made an attempt to be friendly with the hosts as he waited for Mikey to arrive. The host gave him a beer which he sipped at idly, looking around and rating faces. All of the cute girls already had boys to talk to, so he just stuck to himself along the living room wall.

For the first hour, Mikey and Ray clung to him, making him feel cornered and uncomfortable, but as more people showed up—including Ray’s girlfriend—Mikey and Ray slithered away into the crowd.

It was at eleven thirty that another onslaught of guests appeared. Gerard scanned the small crowd until his eyes fell on the person he wanted.

The one guest that Mikey had been promised wouldn’t be there.

Frank.

Gerard had rigged it so that Frank would be there, getting cuddly with the host’s girlfriend and asking if she’d invite him without her boyfriend’s knowledge. It took some convincing, but she reported that Frank agreed to come out after being a hermit for four months.

Gerard just watched him for a while, making sure to stay out of Frank’s line of view. Frank looked sad, and he’d lost a lot of weight. It was obvious that he regretted what he’d done, because he should’ve celebrating otherwise. If he didn’t care that he’d tortured an innocent person for over half a year, he would be fat and happy about avoiding prosecution.

Gerard stalked him for about an hour, and then caught him just as he was about to leave…

In his own way.

He followed Frank over to his car—staying silent so Frank wouldn’t hear—and just as Frank put his key in the door to open it, Gerard lunged. He grabbed the back of Frank’s head and shoved it forward into the glass of his car window as hard as he could. 

Frank cried out and sank to the ground, disoriented but not unconscious. Gerard acted quickly, grabbing Frank’s head again and slamming it into the car door repeatedly until Frank finally slumped over. By that time, there was a dent in the car with blood trickling from it.

Gerard looked around and then quickly dragged Frank towards his own car, leaving Frank’s keys on the ground. Not strong enough to really lift Frank, Gerard just dragged him and sort of pushed him awkwardly into the backseat of his car. 

He slammed the door and took one last look around. Some drunk couple was chatting on the porch, lighting cigarettes and laughing. Gerard casually opened his car door and sat down in the driver’s seat. He locked his doors and started the car, smirking to himself as he drove home. 

Frank started making little distressed noises as he woke up, but it didn’t matter—Gerard was almost home. He pulled into his townhouse’s driveway slowly and shut off the car. By that time, Frank had made a sobbing sound and was writhing on the back seat. 

“Get up,” Gerard said loudly, getting out of the car and throwing the door to the backseat open. Frank wasn’t quite together yet, almost making Gerard’s job easier. 

He quickly went to his front door and unlocked it, and then hurried back to the car. He grabbed Frank out of the backseat by his arm and dragged him off of the seat. Frank cried out as his body fell onto the hard, jagged rocks of the driveway and tried to pull away.

“Get the fuck—fuck off man,” Frank whimpered. Gerard pulled him across the gravel and managed to force him up the single step that led into the townhouse.

“Shut up,” Gerard muttered, kicking Frank hard in the ribs to keep him disoriented and then pulling him across the floor to the bedroom.

“G-Gerard?” Frank stammered.

“Shut up!” Gerard screamed, dropping his hold on Frank in order to kick him in the gut. Frank cried out and slumped over. Gerard forced him onto the bed and punched him in the face when he tried to fight.

Frank called out and covered his gushing nose. Gerard let him writhe in agony for a moment while he grabbed his restraints from his own bedside table. Frank thrashed as Gerard handcuffed his wrists to the bedframe and smirked at his captive.

“Miss me, Boyfriend?” Gerard asked, leaning down a pressing a hard kiss onto Frank’s bloody lips.

“Gerard,” Frank choked. “What’s happening?”

“What’s happening?” Gerard asked, clicking his tongue sympathetically. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you?”

“Gerard—I’m sorry,” Frank cried, pulling at the handcuffs.

“Am I your boyfriend or not?” Gerard screamed, getting on top of Frank and kneeing him in the crotch. Frank screamed and kicked his legs uselessly. Gerard smirked and leaned down for another kiss, putting his arms on either side of Frank’s head. 

Frank was shaking beneath him, making Gerard grin. Revenge tasted so sweet. 

“So,” Gerard began again. “Aren’t I your boyfriend, Frankie?”

“Yes,” Frank cried, shaking hard because he knew exactly what was going to happen to him—and knew he deserved it. “I’m so sorry…”

“Hush,” Gerard said, kissing Frank’s cheek and then making his way down to his neck where first kissed and then bit, letting his small teeth scrape away layers of flesh. Frank cried out and Gerard bit him again, biting harder and harder—and leaving teeth marks down his throat all the way to his collarbone and shoulder. “Feel good? Like that, Frankie?” 

“Gerard, I—”

“Hush, Frankie. Tell me how good it feels.” Gerard bit him again, moaning when blood spurted into his mouth. Frank screamed and closed his eyes tightly. “Don’t you love it, Frankie?” Frank sobbed softly and Gerard cackled, biting the other side of Frank’s neck and tugging the skin until coppery blood ran into his mouth.

Gerard sucked up the blood and couldn’t keep from giggling when Frank stopped fighting and just laid still.

“Are you…going to kill me?” Frank asked.

“No,” Gerard answered, kissing Frank’s lips softly. “You’re only good to me if you’re alive. And look—” Gerard jumped off of his bed and bounded excitedly over to his dresser. He pulled open the top drawer and pulled out a long, thick, purple dildo and turned back towards Frank. “I bought this just for you.”

Frank stared at him with wide, terrified eyes and Gerard just grinned. 

Frank had forced Gerard to love him—and Gerard was going to do the same right back. Frank could cry and plead all he wanted, it would all fall on deaf ears.


End file.
